


Q is for Quarantine

by C130



Series: Alphabet Advent Calendars [4]
Category: Cars (Pixar Movies), Planes (Movies)
Genre: Boredom is dangerous, Humor, Quarantine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:14:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 23,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23160796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C130/pseuds/C130
Summary: Getting stuck somewhere with nothing to do can suck, but luckily the vehicles of Piston Peaks Air Attack Base are pretty creative when it comes to entertaining themselves. And as the world continues to shut down let's work together to create something new...a bonus Planes Story Advent calendar. As we don't know exactly how long this chaos will last, I am going to need your help. As I post each story I need you guys to help give me a prompt for the next letter in the series and we will keep going until everyone is able to get back to their normal schedules.
Series: Alphabet Advent Calendars [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1187987
Comments: 195
Kudos: 70





	1. A is for Advice

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers...as you know I have been posting Planes Advent calendars. While this one will have a similar format, this one is special because 1) it isn't Christmas and 2) it is a choose your own adventure. Every time a post a story I will be relying on you all to give word prompt for the next letter in the alphabet. I will then see how quickly I can write the next story in the series. I will continue posting until all readers are able to return back to a more normal life. 
> 
> So as you read this story start thinking about what prompts you want to hit me with and let's jump into our first short...

Maru had worked around Hollywood’s lots long enough to know when somethings were going to get interesting. The moment that Nick Loopin’ Lopez gave out a cry of dismay that could have probably been heard two film studios over, he knew that this was going to be one of those moments.

“Quien escoriando ate all of the maple bars!”

Everyone on the lot knew that the Maple bars in the refreshment tent were specifically purchased for one particularly picky star. They were set aside away from the other doughnuts so that no one would accidentally snag them and eat them. Everyone knew this unwritten or were able to figure it out by looking at how the refreshments…everyone but the apparently newest star on the lot…

“Do you want my advice kid?” Maru asked while eyeing the guilty-looking helicopter in front of him. “Go to the store, purchase some more doughnuts, and then go and apologize.”

“It wasn’t my fault…” Blazin’ Blade Ranger gulped as he refused to make eye contact with the mechanic. “I didn’t know…”

“Doesn’t matter Blaze.” Maru sighed and patted the helicopter on his nose. “Nicky’s a diva, but he is darn good at his job, which is why we put up with all of his quirks…”

Maru left his words hanging in hopes that Blaze would put two and to two together. Nick Loopin’ Lopez was an established tent pole actor while Blaze was a relative newcomer. If there were issues between the two leads, Blaze would be the one who would be shown the door and because there was a long line of newbies perfectly willing to step into his landing spot.

“Thank you.” He muttered under quiet after a few long rotor beats, before rolling off towards the film lot’s front gate.

The helicopter was missing for a good hour and a half…which was fine because the morning’s filming schedule had already been shot to slag. For a while the mechanic wondered if Blade had just given up and run, but then Maru spotted the blue and white painted helicopter nervously making his way towards Nick’s trailer with a box of donuts from a very expensive bakery. Maru couldn’t help grinning into his coffee. It seemed like Maru’s advice had been taken and Blazin’ Blade Ranger did have some common sense after all.


	2. B is for Bad Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cabbie reflects on the fact that luck always runs out...but that is okay because sometimes bad luck brings new opportunities. This prompt was suggested by Ripslingerisatsundere!

Cabbie would never dare mention it, but his haul always ached on rainy mornings like this. The chill, moist air combined with the rapid changes in barometric pressure always seemed to make every weld and seam in his body press against each other in uncomfortable ways. And being a warplane he had a whole lot more of those welding points than most.

When he had first gone to war, Cabbie had thought himself to be invincible. Oh, how quickly that had changed death had started and bullets had started to pockmark his belly. Still, overall, Cabbie had been lucky…but even the best luck eventually runs out…

As the rain pounded on his hanger roof he stifled a groan. While Cabbie had many wounds from the Korean War, it was the seam across his back from when he had gone down his second and final time that was currently taking most of his attention. Out of all of his war wounds, this one had been the most life-changing, but it was the one that put him on course for joining the Piston Peak Air Attack team so perhaps it had all been worth it.

He breathed and tried to just focus on being present. While the patter of water against metal and the smell of ozone mixed with wet pine consumed most of his senses, he could also feel the thrum of life across the base as well. There was the faint rumble of pumps, the hum of electricity, and just on the edge of his perception Cabbie could sense his team…his smokejumpers, enjoying the opportunity to play in the mud for a while.

The comfort of knowing that he was exactly where he was supposed to be was enough to help him accept any ache that his weather handed him. But as Cabbie slipped closer to a doze, Patch's voice crackled over his radio.

_“A landslide has blocked the train tracks near the lodge. The Superintendent has requested the smokejumpers ASAP.”_

“ _Rodger, the smokejumpers are gearing up now.”_ Dynamite said over the radio, before switching to her outside voice and hollering at her team loud enough that her voice echoed off the base’s buildings. “YOU HEAR THAT BOYS, WE ARE HEADED OUT!”

“Warming up my engines now.” Cabbie added his two cents to the conversation. “I should be able to fly in 5.” The old plane took a long yawn, and then gave his propellers a good spin as he prepared to take on the day.

If it was karma that Cabbie hurt every time it rained, he was willing to accept that piece of cosmic punishment for being the bringer of bad luck on the heads on so many other vehicles…after all, the only way to combat bad luck was to find a way to still live life to the fullest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we have gotten through B. What what word prompt am I taking on for C?


	3. C is for Career Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somedays Patch doubts her career choice...other days she realizes exactly why she stays. Prompt by StormblazeP51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay posting this chapter, while I was expecting to transition to working a fair amount from home, I wasn't expecting the earthquake...or many aftershocks... As someone who is a search and rescue volunteer, trying to figure out how to respond to an earthquake in the middle of a pandemic was a unique experience I hope that I never have to repeat. I hope that you have been weathering this storm a bit better than I have and that this story gives you a bit of a break from the current chaos.

Somedays Patch felt like she was trapped in molasses…that her whole life was wasting away while she manned a tower on the end of nowhere…It was days like that which really made her doubt her career choice.

As Patch hung up the phone with one of her high school friends, she knew it was going to be one of those days. She had barely gotten a word in as Bucky had chattered away talking about how he had gotten promoted to a shift supervisor at Hartsfield-Jackson Airport in Atlanta and about how his family was about to get a little bit larger with a pair of little tugs on their way. He rambled on about how two of their other friends had just gotten engaged and how a third had just successfully defended their dissertation for their Ph.D. When Bucky had finally run out of things to say he had finally paused to ask Patch what she had been up to the last couple years.

The thing was Patch was in the exact same place as she had been the last time Bucky had touched base. She was still spending her summers working for the park service and her winters dispatching for a ski resort in Colorado. She hadn’t gotten a promotion, she hadn’t gotten a boyfriend, she hadn’t even gotten a dodging raise. So she had politely given her friend an update about her coworkers and then made an excuse that she really did need to get back to work before hanging up the phone. But instead of going back to work, she had stared blankly out of the window instead.

 _“Patch.”_ Cabbie’s steady voice broke through Patch’s misery and brought her back into the moment. _“I need you to lockdown the airspace between Canopy Dome and Railway Ridge from the Propeller Canyon turnoff to the edge of the park.”_

“Understood…” Patch replied on instinct as she reached towards a stack of preprinted forms. “I am preparing the NOTAM now, what notice should I include in the TFR?”

 _“We have a 10-56 attempt in progress…”_ Cabbie let the words hang because the old plane knew that he didn’t have to spell things the code out for Patch. 10-56 meant that they had an active suicide attempt going on in the park.

“Ah…” Patch finally managed to squeak out.

_“Dynamite is on the ground right now trying to diffuse the situation, but we need to make sure that we give her enough space to get the job done.”_

“Understood.” Patch didn’t let the concern seep into her voice, she instead focused on putting all of her focus on getting the job done. “NOTAM for Temporary Flight Restrictions region of Canopy Dome and Railway Ridge from Propeller Canyon turnoff to the edge of the park has been transmitted. TFR is for an emergency rescue mission. I say again, the TFR is for an emergency rescue mission.”

“ _Thank you. I will keep you updated as the situation develops._ ”

With that, the team in the field focused on their work and Patch turned her full attention on hers. She shot off all of the required notifications and pulled up the needed paperwork. She listened to the calls that when over the radio and maintained the team's log. Patch had wrangled the most of the paperwork when most of the Piston Peak Air Attack team returned to base…but she wasn’t going to leave her post until they were all back safe and sound.

It was nearly dark before Cabbie and Dynamite finally arrived back to base. Both vehicles looked exhausted, but it was also clear that they were both still feeling too unsettled to sleep. Cabbie ended up having Maru refuel him and then he took off into the starry sky to gain the peace he could only find while solo flying.

Dynamite, on the other tire, went hunting for Patch. The two vehicles had known each other long enough to know exactly what Dynamite needed at the moment. Pulling out the high grade that Patch kept hidden from the rest of base, she poured her friend a stiff drink before pouring herself a mug of high grade. The two vehicles drank silence until Dynamite was ready to pour out the day’s pain and frustration. When that was done and the tin of oil was empty, Dynamite finally fell asleep pressed against the tugs side. Only then did Patch allow herself to also drift off to sleep.

…Days like today made Patch wonder about her choice of career, but in the end, it also reminded her exactly why she stayed…


	4. D is for Deadly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If looks could kill Blade's ice glare would stab you straight through the engine...but was the Chief's look of disapproval really the deadliest on base? The smokejumpers debate. Prompt suggested by TheDragonOfManyFandoms.

If looks could kill Patch’s haughty gaze would melt metal, Dynamite’s dirty look would dismantle, and Blade’s ice glare would stab you through the engine. But even a threatening as those vehicles stares of disapproval were the smokejumpers suspected that the vehicles above them in the chain of command were not actually the most dangerous ones on base...and because Danger was every smokejumper’s middle name, they were also determined to find out if their hypothesis was correct.

“MY VOTE IS MARU.”

“Maru’ mirada sucia is deadly, but I am still inclinado hacia Cabbie.” Blackout motioned in the direction of their jump plane’s hanger with his blade. “That plane is el volcan when he gets pushed to the edge. Drip?”

“Hm, this is a hard one…I all can say Dipper doesn’t make the cut…” Drip shrugged.

“AGREED.” Avalanche thundered as Drip crossed out Dipper’s name on the chalkboard.

“Windlifter.” Dynamite’s voice stopped all the vehicles in the room in their tracks.

“WHAT?” All three of the smokejumpers in the room spoke, but none of them could be heard over Avalanche’s thunder.

“Windlifter…” Dynamite said with a smirk while leaning against the hanger’s door frame. “I have only seen him lose his cool once, but when he did, his glare even made Cad drop oil in the parking lot. Honestly, it was something that gave me nightmares for weeks.”

With that the smokejumper captain closed the door and sauntered off to play poker with Pinecone and the other ladies on base for the evening. This, of course, left Avalanche, Blackout, and Drip alone in the hanger. All three of the male smokejumpers made eye contact with each other…after a few long moments that almost felt like an eternity Drip bobbed slightly as a wicked grin spread across his face. None of them had to speak as they started to hatch their plan to try to figure out just how deadly Windlifter’s glare really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, after three kind of depressing shorts I hope that this one brought you some giggles. Also, if you have an idea for a prompt for E I would love to hear it. Stay healthy out there!


	5. E is for Energized

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper struggles to get moving in the morning. Prompt suggested by ChrimsonChaos.

At the Piston Peaks Air Attack base, everyone had their own morning routines…or at least Dipper assumed that all other vehicles on base had a morning routine. She actually didn’t know because she was never awake early enough to observe them. Basically the only time that she wasn’t the last one moving in the morning was if the whole team was woken up at the crack of slag to go fight a fire, the smokejumpers had finally gotten back to base at 4 am, or someone was injured enough that Maru had them sedated in his medical hanger. Luckily none of those scenarios were currently occurring, so Dipper could enjoy walking at her own pace.

There was a soft glow coming through the windows which seemed to indicate that she had woken up a bit earlier than normal, which meant that she was in no rush to move. She stretched and yawned, shaking away the last vestiges of sleep from her wings. For a few moments, she just sat on her tires and thought about the cup of coffee that would be waiting for her in the main hanger. Eventually, the thought of coffee gave her enough energy to start moving towards her hanger door.

Sliding the door open Dipper closed her eyes in preparation of greeting the rising sun…only to get a windshield full of water and driving wind. She sputtered, backed up, and slammed her hanger door shut. Only then did she notice the sound that she had completely tuned out until that point. It was the sound of a constant torrent of rain pounding against her hanger roof.

With a sigh, she shook the last of the water from her fame settled back on her sleeping mat. Forget the coffee, today was clearly meant to be a Netflix and chill type of day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I suspect that at least some of you currently have sleep patterns like Dipper...but on to the important question, what are your prompt suggestions for the letter F?


	6. F is for Firefighters Calendar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blade gets dragged into a photoshoot for a Firefighters Charity Calendar...and Patch, Dynamite, and Maru are not being helpful... Prompt suggested by Sangrette.

From his normal perch, Blade stared out across the park like a king surveying his kingdom. With his eyes slightly squinted towards the horizon and his body held rigid, he excluded power and control. It was like a scene straight out of an action movie…right up until the scene was broken by a high pitched catcall of a whistle.

“You are not helping.” Blade slowly turned to glare at his giggling audience, much to the photography team’s chagrin.

Patch was the only vehicle who actually had enough common decency to look mildly embarrassed. Dynamite and Maru just stared up at him with complete amusement. Honestly, the right now Blade’s only saving grace was that the photoshoot was early enough in the season that he didn’t have an entire audience of smokejumpers catcalling him.

“Don’t you three have anything better to do?” The Chief sighed with exasperation.

“Nope.” Maru managed to say around a mouth full of popcorn. The grinning the tug plucked a kernel from his bowl and tossed it in Blade’s general direction. “Now go shake that sexy tail boom.”

“Well, I would like to leave.” Cabbie mumbled around with his mouth full of lighting equipment. “How much longer is this going to last? I do have actual work that needs to get done today.”

Blade gave the photographer a long look, only to get a shrug in reply…which didn’t help the situation. Honestly, if firefighter calendar wasn’t a charity project pay for treatment for kids in burn units, Blade would have never let himself be dragged into this whole situation…but Dusty had done it last year and the charity had discovered that having a ‘celebrity firefighter’ on the calendar cover significantly boosted sales, and the next thing anyone at Piston Peaks Air Attack team knew a flood of children’s notes flooded Park’s PR office asking of Blade would be in this year’s calendar. Blade had limits, but he also wasn’t heartless and he wasn’t going to say no to an organization that managed to send him a large stack of crayon drawings asking for help.

It was only when the day of the photoshoot arrived that Blade Ranger realized the bait and switch that had occurred. As a professional makeup artist added extra contours to his paint job it because crystal clear that while children would benefit from the sale of this calendar, this was not a children’s calendar. Instead, he gussied up to become eye candy anyone who wished to hang his imagines on the wall. Unfortunately, it was far too late to back out by that point, which meant that Blade was stuck getting with a photographer and two assistance on his base making him pose like he was still in Hollywood.

“You were only here for half a day when you came a photographed Dusty.” Blade did his best not to make his voice sound like a whine, but they had already eaten a day and a half setting up scenes and snapping away on their cameras.

“Well, Mr. Crophopper’s was already in photo-ready paint and his publicist was very helpful and organized the shots before we showed up instead of making us create everything on the fly.” The photographer countered pointedly before having Blade strike another pose. At this point it seemed like Blades only saving grace was that the photographer had stop trying to make him smile after he realized that ‘charming’ was probably not the best direction of the shoot. Since then the team had tried create stoic or mysterious atmospheres, but the still didn’t seem happy with their end product.

It was Cabbie who finely put his tire down as the sun started to slip towards the horizon. “I have a national weather service radio net that I have to participate in 38 minutes…” The old plane left the words hanging, but photography team had gotten the hint and wrapped up the photoshoot four minutes before Cabbie’s deadline.

Unfortunately, the photographer wasn’t happy with the results so he insisted on sticking around base for another two days to catch candid pictures in the hope that he might get lucky. They were among two of the longest days of Blades's life.

* * *

_Seven months later…_

Chief Blade Ranger was dozing by the fire in Cabbie’s hanger while Maru bickered quietly about something while playing a game of chess. It was a comforting sound that did little more than place this moment in time, and it let him sink deeper into the comforting heat. While this time of year wasn’t a relaxed as the depths of February or March, the happy little Christmas Tree in the corner Blade could forgive the steady stream of park visitors his team had to put up with.

“Blade.” A sharp poke to the Chief’s flank startled the helicopter fully awake.

“What?” He yawned, not really wanting to move.

“You have a video call.”

This fully got Blade’s attention, video call especially at this time of night were a rarity for the helicopter. Most people who wanted to get ahold of him would either do it contacting dispatch or simply calling over the radio. Also, given how relaxed Maru was, it seemed like it was a social call.

“Who?”

“Dynamite.” Maru grinned back. “And you need to get your tail into gear so you don’t keep her waiting.”

Blade made a harrumphing sound and gave his rotor’s a good shake before heading over to Cabbie’s computer console.

 _“Hey Chief, I just wanted to call and check in.”_ Dynamite greeted him as soon as his face appeared on the feed. The two vehicles had a good ten minutes of relaxed catching up, before the ATV broached the real reason she had made the call. _“So, I was wondering if your Christmas gift from me had arrived yet…”_

At the question, Blade looked over at Cabbie and Maru with a bit of panic in his eyes. At his reaction, the C-119 gave a little chuckle and nodded the affirmative.

_“I knew that you were dead set on not letting them send you a free copy of the calendar, so I thought I would do you a favor and get you one as a gift.”_

He tore open his open Christmas present from Dynamite to come face to face with the dreaded firefighter calendar. Given the photoshoot complications Blade wasn’t too surprised that he hadn’t made the cover shot, hey had chosen buff and smiling Quint for that, but that meant that he had to flip through the pages to figure out what month they had dumped him on. Along the way he spotted a lot of the photo gimmicks that they use on him and it made him even more nervous about the photo they picked of him.

Then he made it to November and the photo nearly made Blade’s engine skip a few beats...It was a picture that had clearly been taken the night that the photography team had arrived and before they had started setting up their equipment.

Blade had been helping Maru determine which maps needed to be replaced to get ready for the field season. They were spread out around him in mechanic’s hanger and he had been tracing a route with his tire, but the photographer had caught him in a moment that he had paused from his work and glanced up with quiet intensity at their base’s wall of fallen. It had been close to sunset and while part of Blade was in shadow, the photos of the aircraft who had given their lives were fully aluminate by the last raise of the dying sun. Instead of a kitschy statement or firefighter joke, the picture was graced with the following statement.

**A FIREFIGHTER NEVER TRULY DIES, FOR PART OF THEM WILL ALWAYS BURN BRIGHTLY IN THE LIVES THEY HAVE TOUCHED**

“ _I thought that you might approve of what they picked…_ ” Dynamite finally drew his attention away from this piece of artwork. She then paused, letting her words sink in for a moment before continuing with a wink. “ _Plus, you really do have a nice aft.”_ With that she turned off the feed, leaving survive Maru’s good nature teasing about who he was going to have to buy the calendars for the rest of the night.

But as his two companions started to drift off, Blade couldn’t help but look at the image again and smile…Nick would have approved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this story ended up being a bit longer than I expect, but I hope it brightened your day. :) But now it is time to turn our attention to G. What are your ideas?


	7. G is for Game Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fog outside was thick...but not as thick as the competition inside the smokejumper's hanger. Prompt suggested by I Like Minecraft Gaming.

The fog outside was so thick that it was impossible to see from one hanger to the next, and only a vehicle’s mental map kept them from driving off the end of the tarmac. Navigation around base had only gotten more difficult when the sun had gotten lower in the sky and the world around them had darkened. Head and running lights were reflected by the mist making it nearly impossible to see more than a tires length ahead.

Due to the danger of the weather Chief Ranger had ordered his people to hunker down in their hangers until they had enough visibility to at least see the hangers on either side of theirs in the fog. None of his people argued, but the smokejumpers had insisted on raiding the kitchen before they left...though Cabbie did put his tire down when they tried to kidnap the base’s entire supply of Oreos.

Only once the smokejumpers were snug in their hanger did the reason for their supply run become clear, when Pinecone pulled a box from an upper shelf. Written across the cardboard in vivid orange and yellow letters were the words Twilight Imperium. Setting the game in the center of the room, all of the smokejumpers looked at it with reverence. Due to this game's complexity that made Risk look like checkers and the fact it usually took a minimum of 6 hours to play, the jumpers only had a chance to indulge in this game once or twice a year but they savored every chance they did.

While the rule book technically stated that the races should be randomly assigned to the players, the smokejumpers always ignored that particular rule choosing to instead select roles that best fit their game playing style. As the leader of the team Dynamite selected the diplomatic powerhouse of the Emirates of Hacan, a race with whom no other nation could break a contract. Drip selected the pirate like Mentak Coalition while Blackout claimed the technologically advanced Lizix Mindnet. Pinecone chose to use the straight forward military might of the Federation of Sol and Avalanche snagged his preferred card the Universities of Jol-Nar. Roles selected it took less than 15 minutes to set up the board and layout the snacks in preparation for the battles to come.

“So, who believes that they should become the next Galactic Emperor?” Dynamite smirked at her people as she gave a set of dice a roll…She knew it was going to be a long night, but it was going to be worth staying up for every minute of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Twilight Imperium is a real game that I use to love playing with my team with we got trapped indoors due to really, really bad weather like impenetrable fog. It is so complex that it can keep the players busy for hours and it is pretty cut-throat at times as you try to outmaneuver each other. If given the choice I will side with Avalanche and play the Universities of Jol-Nar. But enough about gaming, what prompt should I use for the letter H?


	8. H is for Height

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was often difficult for a big plane to navigate a world that was far too small for it, but it was often the small efforts that made life a bit easier to navigate. Prompt suggested by PenNameArtist.

At the end of the Vietnam War, there weren’t many places left for an old warplane could go. The United States military was actively modernizing its fleet and pushed aircraft who had served in WWII through Korea out of the force to make room for new theories and methods of warfare. Sadly, the nation wasn’t willing to greet these aircraft back into society, choosing to instead shun them and refusing to let them integrate back into society as a whole.

While a jeep, helicopter, or Cessna was able to change their paint and eventually fade into the fabric of cities, the bigger planes could not as easily hide their natures. Planes like this were forced to take one of three paths. The first was to give up the skies and live out their lives in a military boneyard in Arizona. The second was to join a state National Guard unit in hopes that they would occasionally have the chance to fly. The last was to become an aerial firefighter.

Like many other C-119 Flying Boxcars, Colonel Cabbie McHale chose to fly the last of these routes. Though instead of being modified to become a tanker like his fellows he chose to join a motley group of Skytrains and Twin Otters in jump plane training. Given his combat experience, no one was surprised when he graduated top in his class, but the fact that he was an odd make for this position meant that no established smokejumper team was going to take him on.

But as luck would have it, there was the National Park System was getting ready to launch a brand new smokejumper team. One that would be based high in the Serra Nevada Mountains at elevations that would push most aircraft to their limits, but were a Flying Boxcar with a pair of massive Wasp Major Engines might be able to succeed. Cabbie was brought on to see if a C-119 was capable of completing the mission. It was not until Cabbie arrived that he realized that flying in thin air would be the easiest thing to implement…because while he could successfully land and take off at his new airstrip he literally couldn’t fit in any of the base’s structures.

From the mechanic’s hanger to the IC shack, the bunkhouse to the shower space, none of the buildings on base could acuminate his 8 meter height let alone his 34 meter wing span. The base CO had enough decency to look a bit embarrassed by the oversight, but there was little he could do. So after introductions hand been made, Cabbie had been given a bite to eat, and did what he normally did in this situation. He found himself a comfortable piece of gravel and caught some shut-eye.

The next morning Cabbie discovered yet another indignity. Because of his size, he had to ask another person on base to fetch him some coffee. The tug returned with a mug that was comically small and there was no way for Cabbie to refill it because the tug had disappeared into one of the buildings, so he did his best to savor what he had.

It was a good thing that Cabbie had had some coffee because the grid flying that the Base CO sent him on that morning was brutal. The grid started him on the far corner of the park and had him crisscrossing the landscape multiple times. By midafternoon he was still only halfway done and a refueled at the lodge twice, but thunderstorms were beginning to brew so he had no choice but to return to base.

He was so exhausted that he didn’t notice the changes that had happened to the base, until he was already on the ground. While he was gone the whole team must have been working their tails off because now a corner of the tarmac was now shaded by a large tarp draped between some big trees. Under the tarp were two makeshift tables, one was just the right height for the base's current residents…the other one was clearly built to accommodate Cabbie’s larger statue. And sitting on ‘his’ table was a proper coffee mug and a beat-up, but still very functional coffee pot.

Looking at the set up in front of him, C-119 had to smile despite his sore wings. Cabbie had roughed it before…and if his team was willing to make that much effort to make sure that he could have his morning coffee with the team, he was perfectly willing to rough it out here until he has proven himself enough of an asset to build a hanger that would actually fit his bulk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, when you watch the movie/look at the art I noticed that the only structures that Cabbie can't fit in are the Mechanic's Hanger, the spare/Dusty's hanger, and the tower...I can't help but think that is by design. But that is enough about H. I would love to hear your ideas for the letter I!


	9. I is for Intuition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Windlifter raised his face towards the sky. Snow was on the way...which means it is a perfect opportunity to troll the rest of the team. Prompt suggested by CarsGeek24.

Windlifter paused, face towards the sky, body slightly cocked as though he was listening to something. And he was listening to something…it just wasn’t something that the other vehicles on the runway assumed. Once even the smokejumpers had quieted and turned their full attention on the Skycrane he spoke.

“There is a storm on the wind; we will have snow by morning.” He left the words hanging, letting the different vehicles absorb his words. He allowed his eyes to flicker back up to the sky. “We will have at least 6 to 8 inches; it is time to prepare…”

Both Dynamite swore under her breath, while blade sighed. It only took a few minutes before the vehicles broke into groups and dispersed to get the needed jobs done. Windlifter stayed put watched as all the vehicles on base got to work, well almost all the vehicles on base.

“So…” Cabbie commented quietly once the other vehicles were out of earshot. “Are you ever going to tell them that you are basically just repeated the information in the METAR alert that just came through?”

Windlifter turned slowly and looked at the Air Attack team’s largest member. The big plane’s expression was neutral, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Windlifter took a breath and decided that a relatively straight forward answer was the correct path forward. “They did not ask for the source of the information, only for the story…and who am I to keep them from a performance.”

“I don’t envy you if the smokejumpers, the Chief, or Dipper catches on.” The C-119 couldn’t suppress with a hardy chuckle.

“Not Maru or Patch?” Windlifter asked, his interest peaked.

“Well, Patch already has put together the pieces.” He shrugged his wings. “And I am pretty sure that if Maru hasn’t already figured it out, he is well on his way to do so.”

Windlifter nodded and then the two aircraft parted ways. Cabbie to make sure that his smokejumpers didn’t do anything too stupid and Windlifter to mull over what he had learned. After all, while it was useful to be able to help sculpt other people’s view of the world, it was also important to never underestimate another vehicle’s intuition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I couldn't resist having Windlifter troll the rest of the team a bit. Because while you can get a lot of information by observing the world around you, a certain vehicle would of course use all of the tools at his disposal to create the best effect possible. That said, some vehicles on base are particularly skilled at seeing through bs when it is place before them. XD
> 
> Well enough about I. What are your J suggestions?


	10. J is for Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avalanche may have been the strongest member of the team, but was Pinecone that stoped this crime in its tracks. Prompt suggested by Ripslingerisatsudere.

When vehicles committed crimes within a National Park, many of them failed to realize that Park Rangers were, in fact, law enforcement officers. This power allowed them stop cars who were damaging the park in their tracks. Usually, all it took to get these vehicles stop was to tell them to knock it off…other times it took a little bit more, _force_. 

Sadly, Superintendent Jammer sighed, it looked like today was going to be one of those days that required some physical force to solve the current problem because the young adult who had been trying to take the perfect Instagram picture was clearly not taking the Interpretive Rangers’ instructions to stop damaging the park’s vegetation seriously. Luckily, the Piston Peak Smokejumpers were nearby to lend a little muscle to the cease and desist order….unfortunately, the addition of five very loud firefighting vehicles had cause things to go pear-shaped.

The car tried to bolt, but they failed to anticipate the speed and strength that the smokejumpers dealt with problems. Dynamite, Blackout, and Drip move in seamlessly as a team. Working together they herded the car like they would a wayward Deere. Leading them to wear the team’s heavy hitters. While Avalanche was clearly the strongest vehicle in the altercation and he anchored himself like a rock in the middle of the road. But it was actually Pinecone who finally got the situation under control. After bracing her rake against the unruly visitor’s bumper she slowly inched forward until his tailpipe was firmly pressed against a rock wall.\

“The California State Troopers are on their way, ETA 25 minutes.” Superintendent Jammer announced once the dust from the scuffle finally began to settle.

“While I could sit here pinning you all day, I suspect that you would be more comfortable if you would be willing to sit here quietly and wait for the troopers to arrive.” Pinecone allowed her features to soften. “Are you willing to cooperate?”

The car made a slight affirmative noise and Pinecone slowly backed away. For a few rotor beats, it seemed like everything was going to be fine. Then the car stepped on the gas. Pinecone yelped in pain as the car accelerated against her, but her breaks didn’t fail. Moments later, Pinecone was back in control, but this time all the kindness was gone from her face.

“That was a very, very stupid mood on your part.” Pinecone hissed as she let her tires spin a quarter turn which caused a grinding sound as the car’s metal scrapped against rock. “I had so hoped that you will have enough common sense to remain quiet as we wait for the State Troopers, but as that apparently isn’t the case, the two of us are going to be in very close quarters for the next 20 minutes or so.” This time when Pinecone spoke the car didn’t even bother whimpering in reply.

It turned out that neither vehicle had to wait that long for the State Troopers to arrive. The call that someone had physically assaulted a ranger and the request for a mechanic was enough to make sure they made a beeline to the location with lights and sirens blazing. The two pissed looking vehicles quickly took control of the situation which finally allowed Pinecone to release her breaks and back up.

The damage to her rake looked ugly enough that it put the State Troopers on high alert. Luckily Windlifter dropped off Maru only a few minutes later. Once the mechanic had assessed rake and determined that while repairs were needed none of Pinecone’s injuries were critical, he allowed the State Troopers to interview the smokejumper. They rattled off the normal questions about what had happened. Pinecone kept her voice steady as she replied, being sure to give them exactly the amount of detail required. Then the troopers looked her straight in the eyes they asked their last question. “Do you want to press charges?”

Pinecone let her eyes flick across the now cowering car, then she turned her attention back to the State Troopers. “Based on my experience with them, I suspect that going before a judge would probably do them some good.”

With that, Pinecone let her team lead her back to base knowing that justice would be dealt at some point in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoot! I finally have a computer again. Honestly, this was the worst time to require computer repairs. Thank you so much for waiting so long for this short story. :) So now that we have J done, does any ideas for a K prompt?


	11. K is for Kite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Drip woke to the sound of wind he knew it was going to be a good day. Prompt suggested by C130...sorry, Drip decided that this story had to be written. And given everything going on, I agree with him. XD

Every once in awhile, especially in the spring and fall, the Piston Peak Air Attack Base was hit with a couple of hours of canyon winds. It was wind so constant that the trees would bend in a set arc and none of the base’s aircraft would fly for a bit. It was a wind that fascinated Drip to no end, so when the skid-steer woke to the sound of a canyon wind whistling outside the little vehicle knew that it was going to be a good day.

Rolling out into the wind, Drip pondered who he could possibly share his joy with. He could spot where Cabbie was peaking his nose out of the main hanger. The old plane was sipping his coffee and would probably be willing to listen to Drip bubble about his favorite type of weather…Unfortunately, Cabbie would probably end up spending the rest of the morning trying to teach Drip about how canyon winds worked. So, overall, the C-119 wasn’t the best choice.

Bouncing on his treds, Drip allowed his eyes to wander toward other hangers. Talking to Blade would probably end in a lecture about fire behavior which would most likely end in some sort of quiz. Getting having a straight conversation with Windlifter was nigh impossible and it really was too early in the morning for Drip to handle poetry. Patch was busy, Maru didn’t have the patience for this kind of thing, and Dipper wouldn’t be moving for at least another hour.

Which really only left one option left…

Drip rolled back into smokejumper’s hanger and gently nudged Avalanche awake. The dozer quietly listened as Drip chattered away and then when the skid-steer ran out of steam he had Pinecone pull a box from a high shelf. Everything was in place by the time Dynamite had returned from her morning drive and Blackout wrapped up breakfast. Avalanche filled them in and together the team headed out into the wind.

Soon, brightly colored cloth took to the sky as the Smokejumpers took joy in making their kites dance among the clouds and Drip was content. Today was a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is official, we are now on L. Any ideas?


	12. L is for Landline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piston Peak's Air Attack Base was pretty close to paradise...as long as Superintendent Cad Spinner didn't show up. Prompt suggested by PenNameArtist

For Chief Blade Ranger there were a whole lot of benefits for living and working at Piston Peaks National Park. The scenery was some of the most spectacular in the world. His team worked hard and put their hearts into every fire the fought or rescue mission they participated in. Then there was the fact the Air Attack Base was far enough off the beaten path that the paparazzi had long lost interest trying to stalk it. Most of the time, Blade was truly felt blessed to have landed here…but then there were the days that reminded him why Piston Peaks was considered to be the worst firefighting billet in the National Park Service.

“You didn’t answer your phone.” Cad Spinner wasn’t technically loud enough to be yelling at them, but the tone more than made up for it. The car had been sitting on the tarmac with Cabbie when Blade can come in for a landing, and from the plane's posture it was clear that the reason the Superintendent was parked on the tarmac was because the C-119 had stopped the car from getting into the hangers. While this had clearly protected the majority of the Air Attack Team from the Superintendent’s ire it did, unfortunately, mean that Cad was right there to Blade a tongue lashing the moment his tires touched the tarmac. “I called your phone at least 30 times and you _never_ picked up and now I have been put in a lurch!”

“If you would have bothered to call over the radio then you wouldn’t be in this mess.” Cabbie countered before the Chief even had a chance to open his mouth. 

“Cabbie you are not helping.” Blade shot his cargo plane a dagger-like glare but it was clear that the former warplane was on a roll.

“It seems like our _Superintendent_ needs a lesson about how to use proper communication channels.” The C-119 countered sarcastically with the hard edge of maliciousness in his voice.

“Cabbie…” Blade let his words hang in the air as he locked eyes with the plane, staring him down until Cabbie was the first to look away. When it was clear that the plane had gotten the message, Blade made sure to drive it home. “This isn’t your fight right now, this isn’t professional, and **_we_** will be talking about this later.”

“Understood.” Cabbie rolled back on his tires giving the Chief more space. While it was clear from the angle of his wings and propellers that the plane was still pissed, he had enough discipline not to interfere further… but that didn’t stop the plane from remaining and hulking over the conversation.

Blade stifled a sigh, there was nothing that he could do about Cabbie being protective of the team, so it was time to turn his attention to the problem at hand. Taking a deep breath, he held his voice steady and tried to hold his voice steady as he spoke slowly. “Superintendent, the last time you flew did you remember how the flight attendants announced that you were not allowed to make calls with your cellphone while in fight?”

“Yes but…”

“Do you know why you had to put your phone on airplane mode?”

“So that you wouldn’t disturb the people around you during the flight.” Cad countered hotly, which caused Cabbie to snort and Blade to shot the plane another look of disapproval. 

“It is because cellphone towers were never designed to be accessed from the air. The phone will try to access too many of the towers at one time and, depending on the aircraft’s speed, it can actually cause the entire cell system to collapse.” Blade spoke slowly and carefully in the vain hope that the information might actually sink in. “Radio towers, on the other tire, were specifically designed to handle air to air and air to ground traffic. As a result, radios are the primary way that aircraft communicate while they are on the wing.”

Cad just glared at Blade, and had apparently ignored what he had just been told. “But that still doesn’t change the fact that you answer your phone. You completely ignored me!”

“Cad.” Blade had to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes when he realized why the Superintendent was so upset. “You do realize that that only two vehicles on base have cellphones, and they are Maru and Patch. The rest of the phones up here are landlines.”

“That…” Cad Spinner actually spluttered at information Blade had just given. “That is just irresponsible! You must have a cellphone and just chose to ignore it”

Cabbie smirked “Why would an aircraft have a cellphone if they were unable to use them unless we are on the ground? Especially with cell coverage on base as bad as it is.”

This of course was met by some incoherent sputtering on Cad Spinners part, which gave Blade the opening to usher Superintendent to his hanger to prove what that he was telling the truth. The helicopter suspected that the SUV was going to give him a tongue lashing for having out of date technology, but hopefully, once Cad ran out of steam he would finally leave Air Attack Team Base alone and let them get back to enjoying their corner of paradise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was kind of fun to write and I hope that it was equally as entertaining to read. Any ideas about what I should take on for the letter M?


	13. M is for Messed Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Cabbie rolled in, Blade wasn't sure who had messed up the worst. Prompt suggested by StormblazerP51.

Cabbie took longer to show up than Blade expected…but that was probably for the best. The helicopter needed some time to cool off from his encounter with the Superintendent and it wouldn’t have been fair take out his frustration on the C-119, even if the plane did deserve a proper chewing out. But when saw the tired, pained look in the old plane’s eyes, Blade couldn’t help but wonder if he had messed up.

“Sorry, about my tardiness.” Cabbie apologized as he closed the hanger door behind him, then he faced Blade at full attention obviously prepared to get his aft chewed to ribbons.

Blade simply looked him up and down, then let out a sigh. Pulling out two mugs he filled them with coffee from his personal pot. Nudging one of the mugs towards the plane, the helicopter took a long sip. Pausing he looked levelly at Cabbie. Out of anyone on base the jump plane was the closest thing that the Chief had to a peer. In fact, Cabbie had been offered the position of chief several times in the past but had always declined it. When Blade had asked the old bird why, he had simply stated that he had ordered too many men to their deaths in the past and that he wasn’t in any shape to take that type of responsibility on again. Yet, when slag really hit the fan, every member of the team knew to trust when Cabbie gave an order because he sometimes always managed to keep a cool head when things heated up…which made his actions earlier that day so surprising.

“So…what is your side of the story?” The words slipped out of Blade's mouth without him realizing that he had spoken them allowed.

“I don’t have any excuse for what I did earlier today. I overflew my…”

“That wasn’t what I asked.” Blade took another long sip coffee.

“I…” Cabbie paused, and the tension practically bled out of his frame. “I let my temper get the best of me. It was unprofessional, but I couldn’t help but bite back a bit.”

“Why?”

“Cad had Patch backed into a corner and was giving her a tongue lashing when I landed. Sir.” Cabbie refused to meet the other aircraft’s eyes. “Maru, couldn’t peel him off her bumper and I knew that you were at least 20 minutes out, so I told Dipper to divert to Anchor Lake for a while, and took charge of the situation on the ground.”

“You baited him.” A piece in the puzzle clicked in place Blade’s head. “You baited Spinner so that he would focus all of his energy on you so that Patch go slip away into the main hanger.”

Cabbie bounced an affirmative. “It wasn’t professional, but at the time I couldn’t think of anything else to do…Patch was in tears, and we both know that when Cad starts into an employee like that the only thing that will stop him is to distract him with a more interesting target.”

Blade stared at his Jump plane for a few long rotor beats, then he shook himself in disbelief. “You know you are an idiot.”

“I know.” The plane's words were little more than a whisper. “And I am willing to take any disciplinary action that you see fit.”

“You are not getting disciplined.” The helicopter snorted.

“But…” Cabbie's eyes flicked up to meet Blades.

“Cad brings out the worst in all of us, but mistakes are there to be learned from.” Blade used the moment to pivot the conversation. “How is Patch doing?”

“This afternoon rattled her, but Dynamite is with her know and I suspect the two are having a good girl talk.” As Cabbie spoke, the last piece of the puzzle snapped into place and Blade understood why the plane had shown up so late in the day. He had been standing guard over Patch until Dynamite and her Smokejumpers had returned from the field. The realization made him feel that much more guilty for not recognizing what Cabbie had been up to early. But there was nothing to be done now…

“Good. Well, I have a number of reports to finish and I probably shouldn’t keep you too late. Why don’t you stop by Maru and see if you convince him to sneak you a couple of cans of high grade while you are at it.”

“Chief?”

“If anyone could drive you to drink it is Cad, and it is best to get it out of your system.” Then Blade put on his best Cheshire grin. “Just don’t let the Smokejumpers now. I trust that you will barely get yourself buzzed, but I wouldn’t put it past the ground pounders to do something really stupid while smashed if they got the chance.”

“Understood.” Cabbie replied as he made his way out of the hangar door. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“I will do my best.” Blade replied after a moment, but his hanger door was already shut. Leaving the helicopter to reflect on the events of the day. Mistakes had been made today, but luckily he had a team that was willing to put up with him even when he royally messed up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that was the rest of the story...Was it the direction that you thought things would go when you were reading L is for Landline? Also, what prompt do you think I should tackle for the letter N?


	14. N is for Night Flying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is a quiet evening on base...but of course, a good thing like that couldn't last long. Prompt suggested by PenNameArtist. Sorry about the delay I was dealing with writer's block on this one.

The smokejumpers where bivouacking somewhere else in the park, which meant the base was unusually quiet this evening. The lights were still on in the main hanger, but the only sound coming from inside was the clack of game pieces and the occasional ‘hm.’ Neither Cabbie or Windlifter needed to talk as they pushed the dominos across the floor. Both aircraft had known each other long enough that they could easily read each other’s body language and words would only get in the way as they played with their mismatched game set made from remnants of at least three incomplete sets. They were so engrossed in their gameplay they barely acknowledged the sound opening of the hanger door.

“So, Blade’s meeting with our superintendent went long again…” Maru drawled, leaving the statement hanging. Windlifter remained stoic, but Cabbie sighed heavily as he turned to look at the mechanic. “Who is going to go rescue him this time?”

The two aircraft stared at each other hard enough, that Windlifter finally broke. “Perhaps you shou…”

“I have already rescued our fearless leader five times this month.” The old plane didn’t let the helicopter finish.

“You are the most qualified night flyer…”

“Which really only matters when we are responding to an actual emergency.” Cabbie shot back. “The fact that Blade gets lost in the dark if he doesn’t have a buddy, does not constitute an emergency on my part.”

“…Dipper…” Windlifter quietly suggested.

“Is currently on one of her ‘digital dates’ and given the last time I rolled into her during some ‘me time’ I was scared for life, she really isn’t a viable option.” Maru added his two cents, and the looks on the two aircraft made it clear just seriously they took that piece of information. But it still didn’t end the discussion.

“I will clean up the dominos after we finish the game and I will make popcorn while you are gone.” Cabbie tried to sweeten the pot, and Windlifter finally gave in.

“I will return in about 45 minutes.” Windlifter sighed. “It better be caramel popcorn.”

“Will do.” Maru chuckled as his gave the helicopter a pat on the side. “Now you better go rescue Blade from Cad before things get too ugly down at the lodge.”

So without any further argument, Windlifter rolled out ant took to the skies the only flying member of the Air Attack Team that never managed to get their night flying certification.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one heavily dealt with my headcanon, but in my little corner of the Planes' fandom Chief Ranger is a terrible night flyer. I am backing up my opinion by the fact that there is less than 10 firefighting helicopters in the US that are certified to fight fires at night and most helicopter pilots are only trained for flying during daylight hours. But enough about that...Any suggestions for O?


	15. O is for Obsessive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blade had helped select a number of smokejumpers since becoming Chief...it turns out picking a new aircraft for the team was a whole lot more complicated. Prompt suggested by StarLahar.

The Piston Peaks Air Attack team churned through Smokejumpers on a regular basis…it was simply a fact of the job. On the ground firefighters, especially wildland firefighters, usually only stayed on the job for a couple of years before moving on to something else. It wasn’t because it was a bad job, it simply wasn’t really a career.

In contrast, aircraft tended to stick around. This meant that while Blade had help select five smokejumpers since he became Chief, this was the first time he had to fill an aircraft slot. Overall, it was proving to be a miserable experience. Only three planes had applied for the position and none of them were particularly good candidates at that.

“Opinions?” The helicopter eyed the group of vehicles that he had pulled in to help him make the final decision. Windlifter, Cabbie, Patch, and Maru looked back at him…the mechanic with a barely concealed expression of amusement.

“Coyote…”

“Windlifter.” Patch interrupted the helicopter before he could utter another syllable. “If you can’t give a straight answer don’t even bother adding your two cents.”

The helicopter stared at the tug for a moment and then shut his mouth with a slight shrug of his rotors.

Cabbie finally broke the silence with a sigh. “I think we all already know what the answer is.”

“But it going to be the best answer.” Blade prodded his teammates. “Is she going to be a risk?”

“Anyone that you bring onto this team is going to be a risk.” Maru scoffed darkly. “No vehicle who is fully qualified would actually apply to this place. But the flying boat is more capable than most.”

“She seemed a bit…” Patch let the words hang.

“Obsessive.” Maru filled in and when everyone bobbed on their tires he continued. “She is a rebuild, and it is pretty normal for vehicles that have had that level of work to fixate on things. From what I read in her medical records she nailed a solid core cloud. Her family had her rebuilt, but discovered that the plane that woke up had the personality of a teenager instead of the ‘grandma’ they remembered.”

“So, we are getting a plane that is technically older than Cabbie but behaves like a hormonal teenager?” Blade muttered under his breath.

“Pretty much.” Maru grinned back.

“And that is a good idea, why?” The helicopter practically growled back.

“You have a group of smokejumpers who act like toddlers…” Windlifter finally spoke up. “Compared with them wouldn’t a teenager be an improvement?”

“With her tank capacity, she could be a real asset. Plus, I got the feeling that she really doesn’t have a home to go back to.” Cabbie added quietly, and those words caused all of the vehicles in the room to get a quiet, knowing look.

“I guess that makes our decision final.” Blade looked his crew in their eyes. “Who wants to tell our new flying boat that she is a member of the family?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there is a little bit of my head cannon about Dipper. She always a bit hard for me to pindown because flying doats are mostly a WWII thing and given her make she probably was older than Cabbie. That said, she most totally doesn't act like she is older than Cabbie which means that there is a story waiting to be told there. But enough of that...What are your prompt suggestions for P!


	16. P is for Probability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most Firefighters have an innate sense of math...apparently, Superintendents didn't... Prompt suggested by CrimsonChaos.

Most firefighters had an innate sense of math in their surroundings. Windlifter could tell you the windspeed by observing Beaufort scale signals on the landscape. Dynamite could estimate speed that a fire would overtake her team by looking at the wind speed, the vegetation, and the slope. Cabbie…well Cabbie was the master of memorizing and referencing charts. Unfortunately, all of these skills didn’t save the team from having to have access to hard numbers. This was especially true whenever the Superintendent was involved.

“But we already had our hundred-year flood.” Cad Spinner rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“You really don’t get it do you?” Patch could help but mutter.

“Of course, I do. We have had our hundred-year flood and by the time that we have another one it will be someone else’s problem.” The Superintendent looked down his hood at his employees. “That allows me to free up extra funds to work on _priority_ projects.”

“That is not how it works.” The road crew engineer managed to state between gritted teeth.

“If it didn’t work that way, why in the world would they call it a hundred-year flood?” Cad smirked. “It has already happened and now we don’t have to worry for the next hundred years.”

“We have a 1 in a 100 probability of having a flood of that magnitude every single year you dult!” The engineer practically spat. “Last year’s flood levels does **_not_** reduce the risk of having a major flood this year’s flood levels or next year’s flood levels for that matter.”

“In fact, high flood years are usually clustered, so one you have one big flood you need to be prepared to be hit by more in the near future.” Patch stated using her tine for emphasis. “Which means Piston Peak National Park should be preparing for floods instead of putting that preparation on the back burner.”

Cad just glared. “Why do they call them a hundred-year flood?”

“That would be due to a mixture of insurance actuaries and the media not knowing how to have a conversation about probability with the public.” The engineer stated flatly and for the third time in this particular conversation.”

“And why in the world would it happen at higher frequencies?” Cad practically hissed.

“That would be because of things like urbanization, changes in vegetation, cyclical weather patterns, and shifts in climate.” Patch listed…Cad seemed to ignore most of the words but his eyes flashed at the mention of climate. The SUV opened his mouth as if to protest but Blade cut him off.

“We are not having that conversation right now.” Blade did his best not to groan. “What matters is that we can’t just cut the flood prevention budget just because we had a major flood last year. And in many ways, we probably should increase it.”

The look that Cad gave the vehicles sitting in the room made it clear that the Superintendent still didn’t believe them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, flood frequency is something that a lot of people struggle wrapping their heads around. And you are off the hook when it comes to suggestions for the next letter as we are doing Q is for Quarantine!


	17. Q is for Quarantine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were days that Maru missed his old winter routines, but he knew there was no way to return to the past. This prompt was suggested by C-130

It was days like today that really made Maru miss Cabbie.

Only a few years ago, the three of them (Maru, Blade, and Cabbie) would have spent the worst of January snowstorms holed up at the Air Attack Base. Now the Piston Peaks contracted with the local Forest Service to provide avalanche abatement for the Park, which meant that there was no reason keep the Air Attack Base running in the winter months. Superintendent Jammer could have decided to move Maru and Blade back to a seasonal status, but he had instead decided to have the two of them move down to the main firehouse by the lodge. And that his how Blade and Maru became Pulaski and Rake’s bunkmates.

The fire truck and tug were gracious hosts. They hosed down dorm area used by their summer season rig. They also did their best to split duties in a way that didn’t crowd anyone’s authority. Pulaski took the lead on firefighting missions and stayed busy completing safety inspections. Blade lead any search and rescue missions and helped Jammer fill out any paperwork relating to the Park’s airspace. Maru and Rake did their best to pound through the massive backlog of repairs, cook, clean, and otherwise make sure that the firehouse was a cozy place to spend the winter.

It wasn’t a bad life…but Maru still couldn’t help but miss his old routine. He missed the long evenings with nothing to do was sit and watch the fire while shooting the breeze with friends, he missed bootleg movies and terrible commentary, Chrysler…he even missed the burn as slag coffee. But there was nothing to do but set up a series of new habits.

Spending the evening clicking through YouTube videos with Rake proved to be one of the ones that had stuck particularly well. On some days, Pulaski or Blade would role in and join them for a couple of particularly humorous clips. Tonight, the whole crew was parked in the firehouse living room so Rake had started streaming clips to the TV. They had watched a couple of Hamilton parodies and some baby wildlife videos. Maru was about to suggest that they have an another ‘You Suck at Cooking’ marathon, when Blade suggested that they watch a clip from the news section of the feed.

“Really? Hospital construction?” Maru asked with amusement as he clicked on the link, but the moment the video started the mechanic instantly knew why Blade was interested in it. It was actually pretty interesting to watch a hospital being speed built.

Within 24 hours Rake had located a webcam feed a quarantine hospital being built halfway across the world, and it quickly became the background noise to the four vehicles day to day life. When they had a free moment they would swing by living room and see how far a particular section of the project had gotten.

“Do you think that will come here?” Rake asked absentmindedly as he stared at the screen. Maru wished that he could say of course not, but he remembered how hard SARS had hit Vancouver and as first responders there really was no reason to sugar coat things.

“Who knows…” Maru shrugged. “We will just have to wait and see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, when I started to work on prompts over a month ago, we said goodbye to the world we had once known. We are now all ships sailing in the same storm. Some of us are adjusting to the changes well, some of us are floundering, some of us feel completely swamped. None of us know when we will safely be able to return to port. Because of this, I am going to take this moment to make an adjustment to the pledge I made in the first chapter. I commit to posting at least a new story every week until we have a vaccine as long as you guys keep helping to give me prompts. The Christmas Advent Calendar is already in development and I will be working on finishing up some of my other stories as I have time/mental energy, but uploading snippets to Q is for Quarantine will be a priority for me. We are all in this together and together we will get to the other side!
> 
> Now that announcement has been taken care of, any ideas for the R?


	18. R is for Rum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Normally the Smokejumpers would have hit one of the local firefighter bars, but Dipper had introduced them all to 'Worth it' and so they decided to use their hazard pay to have a proper night on the town. Prompt suggested by Kinola.

There were few things more tiring than fighting a large, multiweek fire…but there were also few things as sweet as a 48 hour leave from the fire front. It was just long enough to get properly drunk, sleep it off, get cleaned up, and stock up on snacks for the next two weeks on the fire front. Normally the Smokejumpers would just head into the closest town to do this, but today they managed to convince Cabbie to give them a ride into LA. 

“Have fun, don’t be too stupid, and don’t be late to for your pickup.” Cabbie stifled a yawn as he drop them off at the general aviation side of the airport. “What time am I picking you up?”

“TEN O’CLOCK SHARP ON WEDNESDAY MORNING!” The entire line of smokejumpers chimed in at the same time, but no one could be heard over Avalanche.

“Correct.” Cabbie winced slightly at the sound. “And remember if you are late you are covering the cost of having me sitting on the tarmac and the parking fees at this airport are ridiculous.”

“Like…” Drip asked with wide-eyed curiosity

“Like over 2,000 dollars an hour. We are just lucky that tower waves the landing fee for emergency services or we wouldn’t be here.” Cabbie yawned again. “Now you all better scoot because Lift offered to bunk me for the next two days and I am not going to say no to a proper scrub down and a nap in a climate-controlled hanger.”

With that the Smokejumpers were left to their own devices for the next two days. Normally the they would go and hit one of the firefighter bars before cashing hard at a local motel, but a couple of weeks ago Dipper had introduced the crew to the series ‘Worth it.’ They had of course binge watched whenever they had access to YouTube and now that they were in LA the needed to go check out one of the bars that had been profiled in one of the episodes. So they had jumped on public transit and headed to the heart of downtown in search of the Pacific Seas Bar.

Rolling up to the door the bouncer looked the firefighters, _still scruffy from fighting the nearby wildfire_ , with a look of distain. Clearly this bar had some sort of dress code and it was one that the Piston Peak’s Air Smokejumpers had failed to meet. Worried that they were about to be turned away, Avalanche opened his mouth to try to plead their case with the bouncer, but it was Pinecone beat who beat him to the punch.

“We apologize that we weren’t able to get properly cleaned up before coming, but we just got rotated off the fire line for 48 hours of rest after and are in desperate need of a round of two of drinks before we sleep the next two days away.” Pinecones southern drawl instantly made the group more likeable. “And while we would normally just grab couple of beers and shots at the corner pub, those two,” she motioned towards Drip and Blackout, “have been talking about your Scorpions ever since they saw the reviews for them online. Though the fact that fighting fires make me crave Rum Runners something terrible didn’t exactly make it difficult to convince me to tag along. Especially when we all have some hazard pay to spend.” Pinecone smiled and batted her eyes…they were then ushered into the establishment without any further argument.

With it being a Monday night, bar was comfortably filled, and the crew was able to snag a seating area on the edge of the party. As the team lead Avalanche ordered the first round of drinks and made sure that they were delivered to the table. Once his crew as happily sipping their fruity cocktail of choice, the dozer snuck of to use the facilities…when he returned, he discovered that every drink on the table, included the two he had order for himself, had been already downed.

“SO…WHERE’S ALL THE RUM GONE?” Avalanche smirked at his fellows and then sidled up to the bar to order another round for the team. After all, the night was still young…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I have been with teams when they have done this and honestly, I pulled a Cabbie every single time because a hot shower and proper bed was always a priority after long periods of solid fieldwork. I would have written more of what the Smokejumpers did that night, but honestly, none of my teammates who chose to hit the bar ever really remembered their first night back. Well, enough about that...What are your suggestions for the letter S?


	19. S is for Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Windlifter had said it was going to snow Dusty hadn't expected weather like this. Prompt suggested by StarLahar

When Windlifter had announced that they were about to get snow and suggested that everyone get inside, this wasn’t the exactly what Dusty had expected. Yes, the tarmac was covered by white but occurring to his vast experience of Midwest snowstorms snow shouldn’t be making that racket banging on the main hanger roof…nor should it bounce when it hit the ground. In fact, the cropduster was pretty darn sure that this wasn’t snow at all, but the other vehicles in the hanger didn’t seem to be batting an eye at the weather.

Blade was looking out at the storm with a thousand-mile stare while sipping from a large mug of hot coffee. Windlifter was sitting next to the Chief with a sagely look that made the Skycrane look mildly constipated. Cabbie and the smokejumpers were parked in front of the TV watching a game, while Maru was puttering around in the kitchen doing something. The only aircraft that seem to find the weather out of the ordinary were Dipper, who as bouncing like a kid on her tires watching the chunks of ice fall from the sky, and Dusty, who was pretty sure that every vehicle on base was a bit nuts.

Dusty desperately wanted to say something, but it was pretty dodge difficult to try to be heard over the cacophony of ice pounding against metal. Then, the storm blew over as quickly as it arrived, and Blade took one last drag to drain the coffee in his mug.

“So, do we need to worry about any more cells?” Blade glanced over to the skycrane.

Windlifter turned his face to the sky and closed his eyes a moment as rain replaced ice falling to the sky. After a couple of rotor beats of silence, he spoke like a prophet. “There does not appear to be. Though mountain weather can be unpredictable and it would be best to stay relatively close to shelter for the next few hours.”

“Understood, you are on weather monitoring duty.” Blade nodded at his lieutenant and then turn his attention to vehicles in front of the TV. “

“30 MORE MINUTES…” Avalanche tried to pull off the puppy dog eyes. “WE ARE IN THE 7TH INNING!”

“Then you should be able to get everything cleaned up and be back in front of the TV before the end of the game."

“But…” Blackout looked timidly at the Chief.

“Fine we will TEVO it and you can finish the game after you have cleaned the tarmac, but we need it clear just in cause emergency.” Blade said with a roll of his eyes before heading back into the kitchen to purchase some additional

With some good nature grumbling but the TV was programmed and the smokejumpers headed out into the weather to get some actual work done. Dipper followed them to, as far as Dusty could tell, frolic a bit in the rain. Then there were only two vehicles parked in the hanger doorway.

“I thought you said it was going to snow?” Dusty finally tried to ask Windlifter but Cabbie’s barking laugh from behind them that prevented the helicopter from answering.

“That if you ask a meteorologist they will tell you that hail is technically a form of snow, and our good friend here is incapable of giving a straight answer when an obtuse but technically correct one will do.” The C-119 was clearly amused by Dusty’s confusion. “But I better go help the jumpers clear tarmac before the rain turns the entire mass into an ice rink.”

With that Dusty was left sitting staring out into the storm…now even more convinced that his coworkers were completely nuts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, Windlifter was technically correct. Hailstorms are technically a type of snowstorm, but unless you are a meteorologist that probably isn't what immediately what comes to mind. XD And that brings us to the next letter...Any ideas of T?


	20. T is for Thunderstorms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shortly after arriving to Piston Peak Air Attack Base, nightmares get the best a young Blade Ranger. Prompt suggested by Sheofthelongshanks.

The fire was so hot against Blade skin that the helicopter could feel his paint starting to peel. It hurt worse than anything he had ever experienced in his life, but he couldn’t pull himself away from the inferno. He could hear the scream of sirens but it was clear that the rigs that the firefighting rigs were not going to get there in time, but perhaps it was okay to let himself be consumed by the flames. As he breathed in the caustic smoke, Blade opened his mouth to howl…and a loud crash snapped him awake.

It took several long rotor beats for Blade to orient himself.

As the newest member of the Piston Peak Air Attack team he was located inside the trainee hanger, a rough structure that was crowded with shelves of assorted junk. It was not a comfortable place, but Blade didn’t have space to complain. No other Air Attack team had even considered taking him on…and even though he suspected that the only reason that Piston Peaks had agree to give him the chance was because Maru had tag along and a good mechanic was worth their weight in gold, Blade Ranger was grateful for the opportunity.

He worked his aft off trying to make sure that Air Boss would let him return next year…but even in the wilderness there was a ghost in Blade’s past that he was unable shake. So, the helicopter worked even harder. He tried to exhaust himself past the point of dreaming every day, but he didn’t always succeed. On those nights he closed his eyes only to find his tires on a familiar stretch of tarmac, the roar of flames filling his ears, and the unbearable heat that peeled paint and melted metal. Blade Ranger knew exactly what the source of those flames were, and he could bear to look at the twisted wreckage…but he also could bear to look away.

Blade tired to slow his panting breath. His pumps were whirring at overdrive. He needed to calm down. He was safe here….he wasn’t there. He breathed and tried to focus on his current surroundings. Normally he would have stayed in the nightmare far longer. He would have watched as the first fire engine had thundered up. He would have felt the agony of cold water hitting his blistering side. Then there would be darkness and Blade would awake screaming…

Then there was a flash of light and a deep rumble that could be felt as much as heard and the helicopter realized what had rescued him from the clutches of his nightmare. It was a thunderstorm. Nosing his way out of the hanger, Blade Ranger stared at the sky. While storm hadn’t brought any rain to base yet, a flash of sheet lighting caused the approaching storm to glow from within.

For a moment, Blade considered rolling back into his hanger but glancing back into the building’s cavernous blackness he knew that he didn’t have the mental energy to face his nightmares again. So, if he wasn’t going to back to sleep and he didn’t want to sit in a dark hanger, he needed to figure out what he was going to do with the next couple of hours.

Blade’s first instinct was go find Maru, but he quickly decided against that. His friend was exhausted and didn’t need his sleep interrupted by a needed helicopter. There was always the option of just sitting out on the tarmac and watching the storm come in…but the boom of approaching thunder made him doubt that would be a wise idea. Scanning the base he noticed that there was a flicker of light coming from the main hanger. It appeared that someone else was a wake and catching some late-night TV. With no other viable options in front of him Blade decided to see if he could join whomever was occupying the common area.

Even though he was exhausted rolled across the tarmac, nosed the main hanger door open and peeked in. Blade expected one of the smokejumpers fed up with his teammates’ snoring or maybe one of the little planes. He wasn’t planning to see the biggest most intimating member of base parked in front of the TV watching infomercials. A lump formed in his throat and he couldn’t help but wonder just how big of a mistake he had just made. Not wanting to disturb the behemoth, Blade tried to quietly turn around and retreat without being noticed…he failed at his mission.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Cabbie’s voice stopped Blade in his tracks.

“Nightmares…” Blade admitted unwilling to meet the old plane's eyes.

“Me too.” There was a warmth to Cabbie’s statement that instantly made him just a little bit more approachable and Blade finally allowed his gaze to meet the planes. Cabbie gave him a small, sad smile. “Thunderstorms and I are not good companions…” Blade tilted slightly in curiosity so the C-119 continued to explain. “When my eyes are closed the thunder becomes the explosion of bombs and the flashes of lightning becomes muzzle fire…so it is best to be watching something else when these types of storms blow up. Would you care to join me?”

Blade simply bobbed an affirmative. He didn’t want to be alone and after a few minutes, he could tell that watching TV helped. Still, Blade couldn’t stop himself from shaking from the adrenaline of his nightmare. It caused his focus to keep slipping back to the memory of that terrible day. He needed a distraction, he needed something to pull him back to earth…he wanted Maru to just be there are talk him back into the moment. To have his friend save him from this feeling of being dragged under by the past.

“You are a bit large for this…” Cabbie muttered under his breath before shifting his weight and levering himself into a position that would allow the plane to slip one of his wings carefully over Blades rotors.

The action startled the helicopter. At first Blade though that the feeling of Cabbie’s wing above him would make him feel trapped and claustrophobic, but as he settled into the moment, he realized that that couldn’t be further from the truth. Blade finally understood why planes would shelter each other with their wings. There was something about having something protectively held above you, a solid barrier between you and the sky. Even inside the protection of the hanger, the act of being under Cabbie’s wing made the helicopter feel safe…feel grounded. A certain level of stress that Blade didn’t realize that he had been holding slowly started to leak out.

“Thanks…” Blade muttered as the full weight of exhaustion rushed in to replace his tension.

Cabbie didn’t give a verbal reply, he simply allowed his wing to drop a little closer to Blade. It was a protective posture that promised that the plane was there to provide protection as long as the helicopter needed it. Then the C-119 changed the channel until he found a documentary about ocean life on the Discovery channel. The two vehicles sat in front of the TV allowing the light from the screen to play across them but not really watching it. The sound of rain on the roof replaced any needs for words…and for once Blade Ranger slept and there were no dreams of death. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so you don't have to worry about story prompts for U. This little story ended bleeding into the next letter of the alphabet.


	21. U is for Umbrella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Blade and Maru needed an umbrella to shelter from the worst of their internal storms, then Cabbie was more than willing to make the sacrifices to be his teammate's shelter. Prompt suggested by C-130's muse.

For most of its history firefighting aircraft tended to be military aircraft that had been pushed out of combat duties but weren’t ready to give up the skies. Due to his high military rank, Cabbie was given instant respect by his fellow aircraft and his large size made the ground vehicles that worked with him think twice about crossing him. This led to a ‘fairly smooth’ transition from his military to his civilian role. But even though the old plane had been lucky to find a safe landing spot, he also recognized not all the vehicles were able to transition to a firefighter’s life without major turbulent.

After all, this was a job that required a special type of expertise. One that required a whole lot of experience flying lines that no commercial or general aviation aircraft would dream off. Planes like that tended to have their fair share of ghosts trailing their aft…ghosts that were mighty difficult to outrun.

This fact seemed to be particularly true for their newest aircraft. From the outside, it seemed like the helicopter would have been a poor fit for the team. He was, after all, a civilian who had made his name in show business and shouldn’t have anything in common with the washed up former military aircraft who called Piston Peak Air Attack Base home. If he had simply gone into firefighting for the change of pace, he should have ended up in one of the fancy city units where he could do PSAs and strut his stuff for members of the public.

Blade was a shiny piece of metal in the middle of a scrap heap. But if someone watched closely enough they could spot was a familiar haunted look that creeped into the helicopter’s expression when he thought no one was looking…then there was the whispers, whispers about tragedy and pity. Whispers that Cabbie had done his best to ignore because he strongly felt that everyone had the right to forget the worst aspects of their past. This was especially true if they were actively trying to run from that past. Blade was clearly trying to hide what haunted him behind a shield of bluster and honestly, he was a mighty good actor…but it is slag difficult to keep up an act once you have drifted off to sleep.

After his shine exterior, the nightmares were the thing that really defined the green recruit to his teammates. They were so common that practically every night, Maru, the base’s new mechanic, was stuck rolling over to the helicopter’s hanger to calm him down. Which meant that the base now had two exhausted vehicles instead of just one. Even Cabbie knew that a vehicle could not live on coffee alone, but that didn’t stop both the helicopter and the tug from trying. It was getting to be a bad enough problem that Air Boss was really wondering if he would have to pull both from the fire rotation because neither were safe in their sleep deprived state.

Cabbie knew that if it would have been up to some members of the team, Blade would have already been shown the hanger door, but those in command had enough experience with shell shock to know it when they saw it. They also knew that Maru would follow Blade and that Blade literally had runout of places to go. The higher ups knew that they also didn’t have too much room to complain as the helicopter was far from the only vehicle on base with night terrors. In fact, Cabbie himself, had woken his fellow firefighters up in the middle of the night on multiple occasions.

For the old C-119, he had gotten to know his own triggers well enough that he made the choice to stay up through the night instead of interrupting his fellows sleep. After all, it is far better to only have one exhausted plane than an entire crew of tired firefighters. So, when the weather report indicated a night of storms, Cabbie decided to park himself in front of the TV in the main hanger instead of retiring to his own sleeping mat.

It didn’t take Cabbie long to get into his even ritual of casually flipping through the channels. Eventually a flicker at the edge of his vision let him know that he had a visitor. That was not particularly unexpected. Occasionally, one of the smokejumpers would came in to grab a quick snack and might insist on joining Cabbie for an hour or so of mindless watching, but when the plane glanced over there was a very different visitor parked just outside the building. It was clear that the helicopter was doing his best to be sneaky, but it was pretty difficult to sneak into a hanger when opening the door caused the porch light to pour into the space.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Cabbie’s tried to keep a sigh out of his voice.

“Nightmares…” The little helicopter admitted, his eyes downcast, clearly embarrassed. He was leaning back on his tires in a way that made Cabbie suspect that he was getting ready to bolt back into the stormy night. Which wouldn’t do.

“Me too. Thunderstorms and I are not good companions…” The old plane spoke in the same tone that he used with spooked smokejumpers, and he was somewhat pleased by the way that Blade’s eyes flicked up in surprise when Cabbie admitted his own weakness. It was almost as if the helicopter was realizing that other vehicles on base also had deep running scars. Cabbie hummed slightly to himself and opened up just a little bit more about his past. “When my eyes are closed the thunder becomes the explosion of bombs and the flashes of lightning becomes muzzle fire…so it is best to be watching something else when these types of storms blow up. Would you care to join me?”

Blade bobbed slightly on his tires, his eyes locked on Cabbie. Every fiber of his being clearly screaming that he didn’t want to be alone, even though some roadblock in his brain seemed to have him convinced that he wasn’t worthy of comfort. Luckily once Cabbie scooted over the younger aircraft at least had the common sense to come and settle down in front of the TV. The soothing images of the far away places seemed to help, but the helicopter was clearly still on too much of an adrenaline high to properly calm down. When his breathing started to speed up again, Cabbie decided to try something different.

“You are a bit large for this…” Cabbie muttered under his breath before shifting his weight and levering himself into a position that would allow the plane to slip one of his wings carefully over Blades rotors.

At first the helicopter stiffened, after all sheltering was a normal activity for helicopters. Because of their delicate rotors they were used to having nothing but the sky or a hanger roof above them. For a few moments, Cabbie wondered if he had made a mistake…then as quickly as Blade had stiffened the helicopter sank deeper on his tires as he released some of the tension that he had been holding.

“Thanks…” The helicopter breathed, clearly slipping just a little bit closer to sleep. Cabbie didn’t bother using words to reply, instead bringing his wing just a little bit lower in a position he used to protect his smokejumpers from stormy weather.

In under five minutes, Blade was out cold and Cabbie settled in for a long night of standing watch. What surprised him is less than an hour later, he had a second nocturnal visitor. This time it was an exhausted but clearly on the edge of panic Maru. He hadn’t realized that Maru’s nightly forays to Blade’s hanger were not just for the helicopter’s comfort.

“I couldn’t find him…” Maru words were barely a whisper.

“He was having nightmares.” Cabbie said with a slight shrug of his wings. “And I was up anyway.”

“He could have…” Maru started, but his voice trailed off as he allowed his eyes to look straight into Cabbie’s. “You could have gotten me. I wouldn’t have minded.”

“You needed your sleep.” Cabbie noticed how Maru flinched at the words as though the plane had just made a comment about the mechanic’s will or ability to be a friend, so the C-119 decided to defuse the situation with humor. He yawned. “Plus, I was feeling lazy and we were in the middle of a documentary about submarines, so I didn’t feel like moving.”

“I am sure…” Maru said, not hiding his skepticism.

“I like submarines.” Cabbie countered with complete honesty. “Knew many of them during Korea and can actually have a passible conversation in in VLF.” Maru actually looked fairly impressed by that, but it was still pretty clear that Maru wasn’t happy with the current situation. “You are welcome to join us.”

“I…”

“I am sure that would find this particular documentary interesting and there is plenty of space next to Blade.” Cabbie motioned with his propeller. “Go close the hanger door and come settle in.”

Maru looked at Cabbie, then at the hanger door. His eyes flickered back and forth a few times before he seemed to make a decision, rolled over to the door, and pulled it shut. Rolling back he parked himself between Cabbie and Blade, with his side pressed up against his friend. The tug was practically snoring before his wheels topped turning, which caused the plane to chuckle a bit…but the vibration seemed to help the helicopter drift deeper into sleep so the plane couldn’t complain. He simply flicked on the closed caption and continued his meditative channel surfing.

There would be may more nights in the future where Blade would find himself seeking a form of comfort that not even Maru could provide, and he would tuck himself under Cabbie’s wing to hid from the nightmares. On those nights, the tug usually would sneak in and also park himself under the protective arc of the old plane’s wing to catch up on the badly needed sleep. Even though Blade’s size made the whole set up rather uncomfortable for the old plane, and left Cabbie sore for the next couple of days the C-119 would never complain. Because if Blade and Maru needed an umbrella to shelter them from the worst of their internal storms, then Cabbie was more than willing to make the sacrifices to be his teammate’s shelter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...I was a terrible author and let life get the better of me. But I think that I finally have convinced my muse to come back and play nice...so that brings me to the question of the post. What prompt should I write V about?


	22. V is for Voltage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maru prided himself about being a miracle worker, but even he could save Superintendant Cad Spinner from his own stupidity. Prompt suggested by Acertainoperaphantom.

Maru took pride in being a being a miracle worker…of being a vehicle who could take the parts that he had been handed and find a way to make things work. He took incredible pride in his work, but there was a certain point one a vehicle simply needed to put his tire down and say no. This was one of those moments.

“This isn’t going to be compatible.” Maru said flatly staring at the weather station that was sitting on the park’s superintendent’s desk.

“Not right now, but if you just swap out the plugs things should be fine.” Cad waved his tire dismissively, which further lowered Maru’s opinion of the superintendent. Which was actually a pretty impressive feat because the mechanic had assumed that that opinion had already hit rock bottom.

“This is going to involve a lot more than just swapping out a plug.”

“A plug and some wiring then.” Cad mouth twitched into his ‘you are wasting my time’ smile. “Just make sure that you make the time to get the needed work done by this afternoon.”

“Sir…if this was a toaster jury-rig something to make it work, but this is a scientific instrument. It needs a specific voltage for the sensors to work properly otherwise all the readings it produces will be crap.”

“I really can’t be that important.” Cad shot back hotly, and the mechanic literally had to bite his tongue to keep himself from swearing at the SUV. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to stop a small snort of distain from sneaking out.

“You do realize that it is important enough that they literally include the voltage information on a tag on the slagging instrument?” Maru motioned with his tine. “But what is really getting me about this conversation, is the fact that we are even having it. This weather station is for the new tower, why aren’t you speaking contractor putting the tower together about this?”

“They refused to install the station I ordered.”

Maru allowed a broad toothy grin to spread across his face. “Well then, it sounds like you picked a contractor that is worth keeping around.” It looked like Cad was about to open his mouth, but Maru did not give him an opening. “I do believe that I have taken enough of your time and I have a number of work tasks that need to get done, so I will head back to base.”

“But what about the weather station?” Cad said with an impressive pout.

“See what it will take to ship it back and get a refund…” Maru shrugged as he inched closer to the door. “Then order a weather station that was actually designed to function in the US.”

If Cad tried to make additional comments, Maru didn’t know because he had quickly closed the door behind him and had made a beeline to the airstrip. His tines were crossed that Cabbie’s engines were warm and the two vehicles would be halfway back to base before Superintendent Cad Spinner came up with any more additional questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a scientist who has worked in a couple of countries, I can promise you that plugging your instruments into the wrong voltage can at best give you incorrect results and at worse cause your instrument to burst into flames. It is best to consider which countries you will be working in and ordering the equipment accordingly. 
> 
> So, what are your ideas for W?


	23. W is for Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though the weather report said he had time, Dusty couldn't help but look at the sky with worry. This prompt was suggested by CrimsonChaos.

Working the land had given Dusty a unique view of the sky. Like most vehicles who worked in agriculture, he had learned to pay attention to the angle of the leaves and the color of the soils. He could feel the changes of sunrays hitting his wings as the season turned and could hear wind shift long before the air started to swirl around him. 

It was a skill grown out of experience and instinct, and it was knowledge that had saved his life many, many times in the past. So even though the weather report let Dusty know that he had enough time to get all of his work done this morning, he couldn’t help but see the reds, pinks, and oranges stretching across the sky as anything but a harbinger of danger. 

Given coming weather patterns there would be no pesticide or fertilizer application, but there would be seed to lay down if Dusty could find scout a safe line to lay it. Still, his instincts screamed that the window of safe, low level flight was narrow and closing. 

“Red sky in morning, a sailors warning.” Dusty muttered to the sky as he pointed his nose towards the end of the runway. The sooner he got the days work completed, the sooner his tires would get back on the ground, and sooner he could safely get hold up in his hanger…and Dusty really wanted to be in his hanger when Mother Nature sent the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it has been a bit since Dusty took center stage in one of these shorts. I hope that you enjoyed it...Also, I have good news for all of you, Maru has already claimed the letter X. So watch out for a story about Xenografts to arrive in the next couple of days and start thinking of prompts that start with Y and Z!


	24. X is for Xenograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Repairs to the aircraft on base always kept Maru mentally fit

From the lack of budget to the more ‘creative’ problems the smokejumpers managed to find themselves in, there were many parts of his job that kept Maru mentally fit. That said there was one part of his crew that always seemed to push his skills to the limits…and that was the aircraft.

Planes and helicopters that chose to work at Piston Peak Air Attack Base were all unique…but out of any of them, Windlifter was the closest thing they had to a pure bred. Aftermarket parts tended to struggle keeping up with the stress and strains put on them by the force of a Skycrane’s powerful engines. As a result, they were a model that were stuck with using parts that were specifically built to order. Honestly, Maru felt very blessed that this particular beast was properly insured through his winter job, which meant that ordering in specialize parts he occasionally needed didn’t bankrupt the team.

Cabbie came in as a close second to Windlifter. He was a C-119 through and through…though looking at the parts that kept him flying Maru had a hard time wrapping his head around just how little of him would be considered ‘original.’ Some of that was due to the shear amount of solder that had been used to plug bullet holes in his belly, wings, and tails, but most of it was due to parts that had once been part of other planes. As a model, C-119’s had always had a particularly practical relationship with their frames. What had started with swapping doors with each other, ended with a strong cultural that a C-119 never really died as long as part of them was still flying. Entire squadrons ended up swapping panels and parts to help tie themselves tighter together as a unit, and upon their deaths instead of allowing themselves to be buried or melted they donated their parts to help keep aircraft around them still in the air. It was a practical way of life that Maru deeply respected…even if it made doing maintenance on Cabbie a bit of a pain.

Sitting in the middle of the pack was Blade. His make showed through, but he also had a long list of aftermarket parts and custom work from his time in Hollywood. Under most situations these modifications would absolutely drive most mechanics batty. Just his hoist system had a couple hundred pages worth of instruction manuals. Luckily for Blade, Maru wasn’t just any old mechanic. The little tug had done his research when he had selected the parts that went into Blade’s chassis…and all of that custom work, you guessed it, it was Maru’s handy work.

Due to her near complete rebuild, Dipper was a Frankenstein mash-up of Grumman Goose and a Superscoop. That said, whenever Maru worked on her he was always shocked about just how well her scares and seams were hidden. Like any mechanic, he could always find the welds, but they had been so expertly polished that they practically disappeared under a proper coat of paint. Dipper was a truly one of a kind aircraft but given her crash induced personality quirks Maru felt it was fitting that Dipper’s unique frame reflected that.

Honestly, after working on Dipper, Maru had thought he had seen just about everything. Today changed that. The plane in front of him clearly had agricultural stock, but now had a bit of everything mixed in. It was a combination that made the mechanic’s gear spin just trying to place where all the parts must of originally come from. Flipping down his welding visor, he couldn’t help but smile with the knowledge he was going to be able poke around until he had puzzled everything out. Grinning he got to work because Maru knew that if this aircraft was so comfortable with getting modified, it was clear that he was going to be able to have fun sculpting him into a proper firefighter machine…one the tip tanks were removed of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...I started writing this story and then the muses decided to hate me for a bit. Luckily have been able to start on a major life step. I am building myself a house and the best part is, my home is going to be an actual fire tower. I hope that the research and construction process will bring me many story ideas in the future. But before that future comes to pass, I need your help. What story prompts do you have for the letter Y?


	25. Y is for Yearning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the witching hour and all the smokejumpers wanted to do was sleep. Story prompt suggested by Acertainoperaphantom.

It was just after three in the morning…the witching hour…the slagging worst time of the day to be awake. For the average vehicle, this was when the deepest level of sleep occurred. But none of the members of the Piston Peak’s Smokejumper Team could ever be considered average. Especially when they were fighting a fire as intense as this one. So, they continued to bend their blades to the tasks of saving homes as the rest of the world slept.

The team had been on this fire for just over 4 days and by this point any physical reserves they had entered the fight with had been completely drained. At this moment, all they had left was a steely sense of will, instant coffee, and the desperate knowledge that if they failed people could die. At this point, the fire was strong enough that they knew that many homes would beyond saving…but they also knew that if their work slowed the approaching flames long enough, it would give their fellow firefighters and police cars time to evacuate the communities located within the path of the inferno.

The fact that the smokejumpers were still on the fire line at this time of night was a testament of their rank and experience. As night began to fall, the aircraft were grounded, and the fire began to become more erratic, the Incident Commander had pulled the Hand, Engine, and Fuel Crews from the fire line to rest for the night. This left only two hotshot crews, the Piston Peak’s Smokejumpers, and a Wildland Fire module to keep eyes on the fire. It was a decision that meant ceding the high and rugged ground to the flames, but when you had limited horsepower sacrifices were always going to be needed.

So, as the night dragged on, the smokejumpers did their best to enjoy working on relatively flat ground. They worked seamlessly, letting exhaustion sharpen their focus and the coffee keep them awake. Each and every one of them were desperate to close their eyes for at least a moment, but they knew that was currently impossible. With that knowledge, they resigned themselves work their afts off and yearn for the moment when they could finally sink into the arms of Morpheus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we have nearly made it to the end of the alphabet...what are your story prompts for the letter Z?


	26. Z is for Zephyr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cabbie had mastered the gift of gab. Story prompt suggested by Ilikeminecraftgaming.

It was a well-known fact that when it came to radio communication planes talked with planes, boats talked with boats, semis talked to semis, and Cabbie pretty much spoke to anyone who would give him the time of day. Cabbie had even apparently figured out how to have conversations with submarines… _which Maru did admit was technically possible, but the mechanic still wasn’t completely convinced that old plane had actually pulled it off_. It was a fact of life that really entertained the smokejumpers, because they while everyone knew the old bird to be quiet and mild mannered while speaking to someone in person, wall talking on the airways he could be anything but.

Cabbie was particularly notorious for finding interesting conversations to keep himself entertained whenever he was on a cross-country flight. So, it wasn’t particularly surprising when the Piston Peak Smokejumpers felt Cabbie bank, circle and then slow while they were on flight heading to support a fire in Colorado. Nor when they surprised when Cabbie started talking in a voice that was quiet enough that they couldn’t understand his words, but loud enough that they could deck plates gently vibrating underneath their treds.

“WHO YOU TALKING TO?” Avalanche finally asked when it seemed like conversation had finally reached a bit of a lull.

Cabbie paused a moment, and then turned on his cargo bay speakers. _“The California Zephyr.”_

The old plane took a few more seconds, and then he patched another radio feed into the cargo bay. Instantly a distinct midwestern voice blossomed in the space telling a story about a particularly intense blizzard they had had to fight their way through. Instantly the smokejumpers relaxed and settled in for this evening’s entertainment. They were not disappointed as the train currently making the California Zephyr route and Cabbie swapped stories as the both crossed the long expanse of the Nevada dessert.

The two vehicles kept each other company until the Zephyr pulled into the station in Elko, Nevada, at which point Cabbie increase speed and pointed his nose towards the Wendover airport in Utah to refuel for the long night flight ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The California Zephyr is a real train and crosses this part of the country around 9 pm...and as you can probably tell the Zephyr brings us to the end of the alphabet...COVID-19 is still here so this story will continue. Which brings me to the question, what are your ideas for the letter A?


	27. A is for AWOL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blade awoke hurting, confused, and with an unnerving feeling that something important to him was missing. Prompt suggested by AlphabetUBet.

“…the third member of the group never actually bothered showing up to any of the group project meetings and didn’t even make a single edit on the google document.”

Blade blinked in confusion at his lieutenant. His brain felt at once like it was being squeezed by a vice and like there was something important, he was supposed to remember but was hiding just beyond his grasp. Throughout all of this Windlifter just kept on speaking.

“So, I gave him a failing mark on the assignment. As one would expect the student was highly incensed that he had gotten an F on the final project. So, it was not surprising that he and his parents sitting in front of my office before office hours began…”

“But when they rolled in to complain about failing the class project, you handed them a calendar with a record of every time his teammates had tried to collaborate on the group project with him...” Blade licked his lips trying to chase the taste of ash from his mouth and the nagging feeling of wrongness from his brain. “Windy…why do I know the end of that story?” Windlifter opened his mouth and Blade felt the overwhelming need to clarify his statement a bit. “A straight answer, please.”

Windlifter gave a quick bob then spoke. “You remember the ending of the story because your mind is starting to heal.”

Blade really did want to say something in reply to that…but honestly, his brain felt both on fire and wrapped in cotton balls at the same time, so he wasn’t sure if he had missed the meaning of the Skycrane’s words or if Windlifter was simply being Windlifter. Luckily, a knock on the door rescued Blade from having to figure out which scenario was correct.

“Good, your awake.” A tug rolled in…but it wasn’t the right tug…it wasn’t Maru, but the vehicle didn’t see to understand just how wrong this situation was and turned his attention to Windlifter. “How is his short-term memory doing? Anything sticking?”

“What the Chrysler is going on?” Blade could keep the anger and frustration from his voice.

Both vehicles stared at him for a moment as though they expected him to continue his outburst, but Blade just felt tongue-tied under their gaze. When it was clear that he wasn’t going to add anything more to the conversation, Windlifter cleared his throat and focused his attention on the unknown tug. “The Chief’s memory does appear to be partially recovering as he was able to remember part of the story was telling him, though he was not where he had heard it from.”

“Windy…what is going on?” Blade asked pointedly, only to have tug park himself in front of him and take charge of the conversation.

“Tell me the last thing you remember and then I will fill in the information you are missing.” The tug tutted not leaving any room for argument.

“Alright…” Blade muttered. While he was unhappy about the situation, he recognized concussion protocol when he saw it. So, he tried to remember what had happened earlier that day…only to be greeted by an impenetrable bank of mental fog. Squeezing his eyes shut he tried to grasp at fleeting mental threads. After a few breaths, he was finally able to catch one. “I remember coffee this morning…Blackout made cinnamon rolls but Drip distracted him while they were in the oven and half of them got burnt, not that that stopped the smokejumpers and Cabbie from finishing them all off…” As Blade spoke the words flowed with greater ease. “Windy and I chatted about a meeting I was going to be dragged in with Spinner later that afternoon…and…and the next thing I remember is Windy rambling on about his undergrads and somehow understanding the end of the story…” Blade let his words trail off as he stared at the vehicles in front of him hoping that one or both of them would help provide him with clarity. 

“Well, as you clearly don’t remember me, I’m Hector.”

“He is one of the road crew mechanics.” Windlifter added in uncharacteristic helpfulness. The tug gave a grunt in reply and settling on his treads, then the two vehicles started into the clearly practiced cliff note version of the last 30 hours.

“This tale truly begins about 45 minutes after your memory ends. Patch received an alert warning that there was a vehicle fire in progress on the entrance road of the park. Cabbie and the smokejumpers were dispatched only to find that who had initially reported the incident had failed to relay the true severity of the situation…”

“It was a slagging tanker on fire.” Hector interjected the moment that Windlifter paused for dramatic effect.

“Indeed.” The Skycrane took control of the story once again and continued to speak with the measured cadence he usually reserved for campfire tales. “Dynamite quickly understood the gravity of the situation and had Cabbie call for additional back up…”

“Because you had a flaming semitruck that was pulling a multi-compartmental tank filled with aviation fuel!”

“Do you want to tell the rest of this story?” Windlifter stared at the tug with one eyebrow raised.

Hector smirked at the massive helicopter. “No, go ahead.”

“You arrived just as the fire was reaching its zenith. The smokejumpers were working to rescue civilians and Dynamite asked if you could help get the traffic that had back up around the crash site moving away from the danger. As far as anyone can tell, you were coming in for a landing when the tanker finally blew, and your proximity to the ground probably saved your life.”

“But you still ended up with a nasty concussion.” The tug muttered.

“Dipper and myself were inbound with retardant when the explosion happened. Once the level of destruction become apparent, I was diverted to bring Maru directly to the crash site to start providing medical support. All other medical personal in the park were also dispatched quickly but they did have the challenge of arriving at the site of the emergency on the ground, which given the snarl of traffic took far longer than anyone would desire.”

“Things were pretty much under control once I got to the scene. Your mechanic had gotten everyone stable as they could be given the situation. The smokejumpers were being loaded into your jump plane for transport to a proper burn center…and before you ask they scruffy looking but all are on the mend. Some EMTs and paramedics had arrived to take care of the civilians and this big guy,” Hector motioned to Windlifter, “was getting ready to transport you back to base. I tapped out your mechanic, Maru, and that was the point when he kind of bolted…” The casual way that Hector said these words caused Blade’s hackles to rise far more than just the words themselves.

“Maru wouldn’t just go AWOL…” Blade tried to argue only to find the tugs tine pressed to his lips.

“No one said he was AWOL, just that I didn’t know where he was. There is a big difference in that.” The tug seemed to recognize that statement didn’t satisfy Blade in the least. “Listen, some folks need space to decompress from this kind of thing. The rangers in the park are keeping an eye out for your mechanic, but the fact that they haven’t bumped into him so far lets me know that he really doesn’t want to be found.”

“When he is ready, he will return.” Windlifter stated with an unnerving level of confidence. “Until then, sleep and heal.”

The rest of the day seem to move asphalt being poured from a truck. For the first couple times, he woke up again, either Windlifter or Hector was parked in front of him, insisting that he rattle off a list of concussion questions. Though as the day wore on and they were comfortable with the fact his memory was gradually returning, they had mostly left him to his own devices in his hanger with a headache as terrible as it was constant.

He continued to doze as much as his injured brain would allow, when his hanger door slid open bathing Blade in the light of the setting sun…moments later a smell also rolled over him. Blade knew that smell. Wrinkling his nose, he had to work hard to keep a snarl from his voice. “Your drunk…”

“I know.” Maru said with such a look of defeat in his eyes, that the bubble of Blade’s anger instantly popped. The mechanic leaned heavily on the frame of the hanger door with a sigh. “I messed up big.”

“What happened?” Blade asked quietly.

“I broke…I just managed to keep everything together until everyone was stable and backup had arrived…but between the smell and the color of the scorched paint and, slagging fact that it all had to happen on August 6th…” Maru left the words hanging, but even Blade’s concussed brain was able to connect the dots. August 6th was the anniversary of the crash derailed both of their lives. August 6th was the date that they had lost Nick.

No more words were needed, as Blade remembered the heat and terror of that day. He could only imagine just how the flashback must have been to cause his reliable friend to realize the best thing he could do for his patients was to call in help and then back off. The guilt he must be feeling right now must have been utterly crushing.

Blade’s attention was pulled back into the moment when he heard Maru make a faint choking noise. The little tug breath hitched slightly as he tried to even out his breathing. Once it was back under control Maru mechanically closed the hanger door and gingerly made his way over to Blade’s side. Without asking he rolled over and pressed his windshield against Blade’s side. The helicopter stayed very still, as he felt his skin become wet and little tug quiver with sobs against him. It was a moment of complete powerlessness for Blade, but he would be there Maru…and right now that would have to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...that was a gut punch to write. If anyone is curious, had so much pent up emotion this story actually spawned a companion piece the was written in parallel, so plan on Maru's side of this story to arrive this December when I post this year's annual advent story 'M is for Mechanic'. On a lighter note, I am pretty sure that this is also the most talkative that Windlifter has been in any of my stories. XD
> 
> So what do you want me to tackle for the letter B?


	28. B is for Bravery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After fighting her first blow up, Dipper discovers that she is not only a terrible firefighter, but she is also a coward. Prompt suggested by rachel_rose.

Dipper had was convinced herself that she had been ready to take on firefighting…right up until the moment when the team deployed on their first blowup. As the air became more turbulent above the flames, everything started to wrong. At first, she laid a line down wrong, which shook her up further and caused her to have two more bad drops. Finally, the Chief had given up on putting her on the point of the fire, and put her in charge of placing retardant lines on windward side of the burn area.

The flying boat knew that her performance that day had been a complete disaster…but it was not until she landed safely back at base and couldn’t stop herself from shaking on her tries that she realized that she was not only a useless firefighter she was also a coward.

“I…” She couldn’t look at the base’s chief in the face as tears started to well up in the corner of her eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

The plane’s words hung for what felt like an eternity and in that eternity, Dipper half convinced herself that she was a complete an utter failed. She had honestly considered firefighting to be her last sheltered port in the storm her life had become…and now, it looked like she wasn’t even worthy of that port. She really, really didn’t want to be thrown out, but she understood that if she was incapable of facing the flames without becoming a quivering mess, she would never successfully become part of the team. These aircraft and ground pounders were some of the bravest vehicles that Dipper had ever met…and she simply didn’t hold a candle to them.

“Bravery and courage are not a lack of fear.” Windlifter measured calm broke Dipper’s panicked line of thinking. “They are the strength to face your fears in order to help others.”

“Unless it involves a smokejumper, than it involves a health dose of stupidity mixed in there.” Maru, the base mechanic muttered under his breath just lowed enough for Dipper to hear him.

“Maru.” Chief Rangers’ voice was soft but filled with a firm enough warning that Dipper couldn’t stop her eyes from flickering upwards. There were many things that the flying boat expected to see in the face of the Fire Chief, but what she saw surprised her. The stern helicopter was giving her a look of patience, understanding, and concern.

In that moment, Dipper couldn’t keep the flood gates closed and sobs poured as the effects of adrenaline started to fade. “I screwed up so badly…”

“I will admit you had a bad series of runs out there, but any fires that everyone comes home safe from is a success in my book.” The helicopter in front of her was clearly trying to comfort her, but Dipper still had a hard time believing his words.

“I…” The plane tried to speak, but the words got stuck in her throat as the tears leaned down her cheeks.

“You are coming down from an adrenaline high.” The sigh on the edge of Chief Ranger’s voice was well hidden, but still detectable, and it brought Dipper an unbelievable level of relief. She might be broken, but if the Chief was acting this way, she was clearly not the first plane to fall apart on their first real mission line this. “Give yourself some an hour or two to let your systems cool off, then report to my hanger. Patch and I will give you a proper debriefing then.”

“Yes sir…” Dipper managed to squeak out before both Chief Ranger and Windlifter rolled off towards the Chief’s hanger. Maru stayed a moment longer, to give her a soft pat on his side then he headed to his hanger to putter around on some task.

That left Dipper standing on the tarmac alone with two pieces of knowledge. First that she was a useless firefighter and a coward….and second, the members of the Piston Peak Air Attack team were willing to give her time to learn to be brave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bravery is a hard skill to near, but luckily Dipper has a lot of great examples around her to learn from. But it is time to turn our attention to the next letter in the alphabet...Any prompt ideas for the letter C?


	29. C is for Catapult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cabbie should have known better than to leave the smokejumpers alone with marshmallows...Prompt suggested by AnonymousCar300.

The marshmallow catapult challenge had originally started as a ‘fun’ team building exercise, but after several of the smokejumpers had tried to one up each other it had quickly dissolved into a competition, much to Cabbie’s annoyance. But even the plane couldn’t blame the smokejumpers from trying to interject a little bit of fun into their day. They had after all been couped up on base due to heavy fog for the last 48 hours and Dynamite was quickly running out of housekeeping tasks to keep the busy…and everyone knew that an bored smokejumper was bound to find entertainment were it was least wanted.

The construction of marshmallow catapults was a simple enough activity that Cabbie had been able to easily gather up the materials…a tine full of paint sticks from Maru’s shed, a bag of elastics from Patch’s tower, and a couple bags of marshmallows from Windlifter’s stash of things that he kept well out of reach of the ground pounders. Setting out all of the supplies, Cabbie had explained the requirements of the challenge to a group of smokejumpers that were nearly vibrating with pent up energy. The problems started the moment that Cabbie finished up his explanation.

“SO, ALL WE HAVE TO DO IS USE THE PAINT STICKS AND THE ELASTIC BANDS TO LANCH THE MARSHMALLOWS ACROSS THE ROPES YOU PUT OUT IN THE MAIN HANGER?” Avalanche summarized.

“Mostly correct, you also need to make sure that your catapult remains fixed to the…” Cabbie spoke, but at the corner of his eye he spotted some movement. By the time his brain processed what the movement was it was nearly too late. “ _DRIP,_ let go of those marshmallows this INSTANT.”

Drip at least had the common sense to look a bit guilt when his was pinned by Cabbie’s glare…but that didn’t stop him from slowly closing his claw around the bag of marshmallows in the attempt to conceal them. It also didn’t stop him from trying to slowly back a way from the clearly annoyed plane.

“That isn’t going to work.” Dynamite pinned her subordinate with a stare that finally convinced him to let go of the bag of fluffy sweets he had tried to hide in his shovel. One Drip had moved far enough away from the marshmallows that he couldn’t try to sneak a couple again the ATV turned back to Cabbie. “Go ahead.”

The old plane harrumphed, then looked all of his ground pounders in the eyes. “You build your marshmallow catapults out of the paint sticks and the elastic bands. They can look how ever you want them to look, but they have to remain fixed to the ground during the entire marshmallow launch. Understood?”

All the vehicles nodded and Cabbie was almost able to distribute the materials when, he was once again interrupted.

“So…how do we make this a competition?” Blackout asked glancing at his fellow jumpers.

“We could each build our own.” Drip suggested.

“REMEMBER THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A TEAM BUILDING EXERCISE.” Avalanche’s words encouraged caused Blackout and Drip to stare back with a blank expression. A few moments later both vehicles opened their mouths to speak at the exact same time.

“We will divide into two teams and see which team is able to launch their marshmallows the furthest.” Dynamite stopped the possibility of an argument by putting her tire down.

“Fine.” Cabbie sighed with exasperation clearly annoyed by how off the rails this simple activity had managed to get.

“CABBIE WILL BE THE JUDGE!”

“Which mean’s that he needs to not be here while we are building…” Drip added clearly mulling over the idea. “Also, I think the two teams should be in too separate places so no one can steal the other teams’ ideas!”

“How should we split the teams?” Blackout pointed out the major issue in the plan so far.

“That is easy.” Pinecone was clearly willing herself not to roll her eyes at her fellow smokejumper’s antics. “Ladies vs Gentlemen.”

“BUT THAT ISN’T FAIR, THE GIRL TEAM WILL HAVE ONE LESS PERSON.”

Pinecone clearly wanted to say something, but Dynamite beat her to it. “We will add Patch to our team.”

Everyone reluctantly agreed to this plan and Cabbie retreated to his hangers indicating that he would be back in 20 minutes and everyone better be ready to compete with their catapult. During the allotted time, the base was unusually quiet which of course only made Cabbie watch the clock even closer.

When the time was finally up, he peeked into the Smokejumper’s hanger to inform Dynamite, Pinecone, and Patch that their time was up. There was a bit of grumbling that they needed just 5 more minutes to tinker with their design, but overall, Cabbie was pleased to see that they had built something that would work for competition.

Unfortunately, the Flying Box Car’s day went downhill the moment that he rolled into the main hanger. The main hanger was…well the only word for it was a mess. Several of the paint sticks were broken and there were errant marshmallows everywhere. In the middle of the mess sat Avalanche, mouth wide open and mostly full of marshmallows. The three smokejumpers at least had the enough common sense to look a little bit guilt as Cabbie surveyed the destruction…but that guilt didn’t prevent Drip from sending the already loaded marshmallow straight into Avalanche’s waiting mouth.

“I really should have known better than to leave you lot unsupervised.” Cabbie sighed looked down at the chaos that the smokejumpers had created.

Avalanche tried to say something in the smokejumpers defense before Cabbie turned tails and retreated back to the safety of his hanger, but we will never know what it was because the dozers mouth was too full of marshmallows to be understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I may have actually been in Cabbie's situation during a marshmallow catapult training exercise...it was as messy as you would expect. XD Well, on to the next letter. Who has a suggestion for D?


	30. D is for Derecho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dusty fled in front of the storm. This prompt was suggested by Acertainoperaphantom.

Dusty had fled in front of the storm, just like the other of his kind. A military or large commercial aircraft might have a chance to survive the strong line of thunderstorms, but a small, general aviation aircraft would quickly be torn wing from wing by the winds aloft. The danger of this type of storm wasn’t limited to aircraft in the air. Even if they Dusty had found a place to land before the weather front hit, without the shelter a hanger or the grounding strength of a tether, he would risk being tumbled across the ground tumbled end over end.

Sadly, while Dusty had known that fleeing ahead of the storm was his only choice that didn’t do anything to reduce his guilt. Derechos only happened in Prop Wash Junction every couple of years, put it far behind other dangerous weather phenomena such as tornados, blizzards, or ice storms. But just because this type of storm happened rarely did little to dampen the damage a Derechos wrecked when they did develop.

From the sky, the aftermath of a Derecho was always easy to spot. There were miles upon miles of corn fields laid on their sides and soybean with their leaves shredded beyond recognition. The sight of trees snapped in half or with limbs torn off were common, and every town had cone of debris that had formed down wind of the community. From the air the destruction looked both organized and chaotic at the same time. Organized because everything had been pushed in the exact same direction…chaotic because haphazard way that the wind picked up and dumped things.

Dusty suspected that being trapped in the storm itself must be terrifying. For the cars and other ground vehicles the who lived in his community having to sit tight as they watched the wind try to take apart the building around them was something that the aircraft simply couldn’t wrap his head around. So, he focused on what he did know…that if the storm caught him it would mean death and that dread was a powerful enough force that it propelled him away from the danger.

When the storm was finally past and the shear scope of the damage started to become apparent, Dusty would return to help where he could. But for now he swallowed his guilt and flew with all of his might.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I know that Dusty didn't get much love during this Christmas's Advent Calendar so hopefully, this helps fill in the gap for the Dusty fans out there. Transferring small aircraft out of the path of big storms is a pretty common and a pretty complicated operation, but it is made worth it because little planes can easily be damaged during storms like this even if they are on the ground...and now it is on to E which due to popular request will be Eruption, though given how much of a butt Windlifter is proving to write for I can't promise how good it will be.


	31. E is for Eruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Smokejumpers had laid the trap, now they must deal with the consequences. Prompt Suggested by StormblazeP51.

It had started as most things did on base, but while the idea had first been formed through a combination of curiosity and boredom in the dead of night, the project had ballooned into something that smokejumpers weren’t exactly sure that they could control anymore. Not that that was going to stop them from continuing to pour every ounce of creativity they had in the project. After all, Dynamite had told them that Windlifter was the most terrifying person on base when angry, but the male smokejumpers wanted to witness the Skycrane erupting so that they could judge for themselves.

Like most projects the smokejumpers put their blades to, the initial attempts were crude. They relied on brute force, because after years of fighting fires they had learned that there were few problems that couldn’t be solved by squaring one’s tires and stepping on the gas. Unfortunately for them (or fortunately depending on how you looked at the situation) Windlifter always seemed one stop ahead of them.

After more failed attempts to poke the Skycrane into a properly volcanic eruption, Avalanche, Blackout, and Drip decided that it was time to try another tactic. If attacks of opportunity were not going to get them the desired fireworks, perhaps a well-planned trap would be more successful. So they spent several rigging up a bucket over the main hanger’s door and sat in wait for the big helicopter to come for his morning coffee.

The smokejumper’s mission almost succeeded. They heard Windlifter coming towards the hanger and saw the doors slide open. The moment that an aircraft nose poked its way into the hanger they pulled the string causing a mixture of sludge, oil, and mud cascaded over the large aircraft…only it was the wrong large aircraft.

“MARU. BLADE. MAIN HANGER. NOW.” Cabbie spoke with a voice that echoed across the mountains and volume that even managed to outclass Avalanche. But the frightening thing about it was it was clear from the tone Cabbie wasn’t shouting. Instead, the old plane had simply found something that was worthy of putting the full power of his voice behind. When Maru and Blade rolled into the hanger, nearly at the same moment, Cabbie glared at the two, cleared his throat and nearly hissed. “Fix this.”

No vehicle on base needed to ask what needed to be fixed, because everyone hadn’t been actively working on the pranks had been dodging the said prank attempts for days.

Blade sighed heavily before turning an icy stare at the pack of smokejumpers sitting in front of him. “Do I even want to know why you thought this prank war was a good idea?”

Avalanche and Blackout had the common sense to keep their mouths firmly shut. Drip, well Drip happily spilled the beans. “We got the idea from Dynamite?”

“Really?” This time Blade leveled his glare at the smokejumper captain. Dynamite didn’t even blink as she continued to sip her coffee. “And please do tell me what this idea was?”

“She told us that Windlifter was the scariest person on base when he got angry and we decided we needed to see it for ourselves to see if it was true.” Drip stated with a level of confidence that made the other members of the teams shake their heads in disbelief.

“Well, Windy.” Blade leveled a tired look at the Skycrane that was stealthfully trying to sneak a package of popcorn into the microwave…which of course was an action that only sharpened the Chief’s annoyance. “Please show a little anger towards these idiots causing so much trouble.”

“That’s my secret.” Windlifter stated a relaxed calmness that stuck fear deep in the engines of every smokejumper sitting in front of the Skycrane. “I’m always angry.”

The words hung in the air, making Avalanche, Blackout, and Drip tremble on their treads in fear of what they were about to see…then Maru burst out laughing absolutely spoiling the moment.

“Windy.” Blade sighed heavily. “The movie quotes really aren’t helping.”

“Really?” Windlifter blinked owlishly. “Because I though the timing on that was near to perfect.”

Before anyone could make a comment to counter Windlifter’s argument, Cabbie whacked him with a well-placed wing. Then the C-119 placed his full attention on the misbehaving jumpers.

“I know that you all have had your fun, but these pranks will stop. Now.” The plane’s voice was low, but there was a hint of a growl that allowed the little vehicles to get a glimpse of just how pissed the jump plane currently was.

“YES SIR.” Drip and Blackout might have said something, but anything they might have said was drowned out by Avalanche’s mortified statement. “IT WON’T HAPPEN AGAIN, SIR.”

“I trust that it won’t.” Cabbie gave a level look of disappointment that made everyone, including those who had nothing to do with the current prank, want to melt into the ground. “As I doubt, you will enjoy the consequences if you choose to attempt again."

With that Cabbie turned tails and maneuvered himself out of the hanger closing the door behind him. That was the moment of the rest of the members of the base let go of a breath that they had been holding from the moment the sludge hit Cabbie’s wings. It was clear to all of them that they had just dodge a bullet.

“So…” Drip glanced around at his fellows a bit sheepishly. “Let’s not do that again.”

His fellow smokejumpers all gave small sounds of agreements. While they were still curious about what in the world could cause Windlifter to go off, it wasn’t worth triggering the fury of the vehicle they had to ride inside of on a daily basis in order to soothe that curiosity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I tried...but Windlifter continued to be elusive. Hopefully what I was able to produce was entertaining enough to compensate. That brings us to our next letter. Who has a prompt for F?


	32. F is for Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blade decided to make dinner while with a concussion...it ended about as well as one would expect. Prompt suggested by ShuTodoroki and voted upon by many.

Concussions do really strange things to a person’s sense of time and location. This was especially true for aircraft for whom a sense of time and location were just as much of a part of their sense of self as their tails or wings. So when one Blade Ranger managed to get a major concussion as his first injury on the job at Piston Peaks Air Attack Team, the base mechanic (and Blade’s best friend) took it upon himself to personally keep the helicopter’s concussion watch.

It ended about as well as one would expect.

When Blade had first arrived on base, the Chief had tried to add him to the cooking rotation. It had taken a total of one breakfast for everyone to agree that the helicopter should be exempted from cooking duties as Blades firefighting management skills clearly didn’t extend to the kitchen. Normally he was banned from doing anything in the kitchen other than helping with clean up or grabbing prepackaged snacks. But when Maru asleep 72 hours into his solo concussion watch and with Blade’s cognitive abilities lacking, the helicopter somehow came to the conclusion that he should make dinner while the rest of the members of the base were off fighting a fire.

He must have lost track of time somewhere in there because he could have sworn that he had just put the pot on the stove a moment ago, but now the contents of the pot were in flames and the hanger’s smoke alarm was screaming.

Water…water was the first thing that managed to make its way through the fog in his head. So, without a second thought, he moved quickly to the sink, filled his mouth with water and sprayed it all over stovetop.

Blade didn’t even have a chance to feel relief, because the moment the water hit the pot the flames exploded into an inferno much larger than he had started with. Now the fire was moments away from setting a nearby kitchen cabinet on fire and panic was really starting to settle in. Blade was trying to figure out something, anything to get the fire he had started under control…then he felt himself being violently pushed away from the flaming pot. The next thing he knew, Cabbie was between him and the flames, then as quickly as the fire had started, it was extinguished.

Once everything was safe, the old plane turned angrily towards the helicopter, but his expression quickly softened when he saw just how disoriented Blade was.

“Are you okay?”

“I…” Blade managed to stammer out before tears started to pool up at the edge of his eyes.

Cabbie sighed heavily, rolled to the now open hanger doors, and shouted for the mechanic. “MARU, I NEED YOU IN THE MAIN HANGER NOW.” When there was no reply Cabbie closed his eyes, muttered something under his breath and rolled back to Blade. “Can you move over there for me?” He motioned out of the kitchen. “I need to get to the panel to turn off the fire alarm okay?”

Blade blinked up at the big plane for a few moments before the words finally gained some traction in his brain. Then the embarrassment hit and even though the helicopter was clearly hurting he moved as quickly has he could out of the plane’s way. This allowed Cabbie to turn off the blaring alarm.

Now that the hanger was finally quiet, Cabbie finally had a chance to look over the charred mess in the pot. “What in the world were you trying to cook?”

“I…” Blade tried to form the words, but his brain was still in too much of a fog to translate concepts to words effectively.

“Never mind.” Cabbie dismissed the question with a spin of one of his propellers. “Let’s locate Maru and have him check you over.”

Cabbie shepherded Blade around base before eventually finding the exhausted mechanic snoring dead to the world in the hanger Blade had been assigned to. It didn’t take long for the plane to put all of the pieces together.

“Maru fell asleep during his concussion watch, and while he was asleep you got it in your head to make dinner, didn’t you?”

Blade gave an embarrassed shrug to of his rotary wings.

“Well, I guess it can’t be helped.” Cabbie leaned over and sharply poked Maru awake. Once the startled mechanic was blinking up at him, the plane gave precise instructions. “Maru, Blade just set the kitchen on fire. I need you to look over him and keep an eye on him until some else on the team returns to base from fighting the wildfire and takes over Blade’s concussion watch. Can you do that?”

“What?”

“Can you keep an eye on Blade until…”

“I got that part.” Maru blinked away the last of the haze of sleep. “But a fire in a kitchen?”

“From what I can tell he was trying to make dinner.” “And it ended about as well as you think. So, while you take care of Blade, I am going to go deal with that. Understood?”

“Understood.” Maru sighed as he scrubbed his tine across his windshield.

“Good.”

Cabbie ended up ordering enough pizzas to feed everyone on base. He paid for all of the pies out of his personal account because Chrysler knew there was no way that the base’s tight budget could manage the expenditure. Both Blade and Maru made clumsy attempts to pay the old bird back. Cabbie shrugged them off each time.

“Did you learn something from the experience?” The C-119 said with humor warming his voice. Both Blade and Maru vigorously indicated that yes, they had learned. “Then that is payment enough for the meal as it will safe us all grief in the future.”

With that, the base settled into their evening routine, but unlike in previous days, Blade and Maru were no longer fighting against accepting help. And that made all of the difference going forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to everyone, if you ever have to deal with a kitchen fire never use water to extinguish it. Water tends to make those types of fires worse. The best ways to stop the fire is to use a fire extinguisher to put it out, put a lid over the fire to smother it, or dump baking soda on the fire to smother it. Cabbie was going to knock a box of baking soda on the fire to put it out, but the story ended up going in a bit different direction than I had initially planned so that little tidbit didn't make the final draft.
> 
> So my readers, what prompt suggestions do you have for the letter G?


	33. G is for Gardening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A kind gesture lands Blade and Maru in their worst nightmare...trying to navigate the decor section of Ikea. Prompt suggested by PenNameArtist.

It was official. Lil’ Dipper was becoming a permanent member of the team. She was going to a great boon to their firefighting power but bringing her on was also going to lead to some unique challenges…and the most frustrating challenge that Blade and Maru were currently trying to solve by meandering through the maze-like halls of the local Ikea.

Even though Blade was known for his icy exterior, anyone who had gotten to know the Piston Peak Air Attack Chief knew that the frozen exterior camouflaged a warm squishy center. The helicopter had a bad habit of picking up strays and was strongly protective of his team. This combination of traits was the reason why Blade was working so hard to make sure that Dipper would be able to turn the base into the home she so badly needed…even if it was only going to be her home for part of the year.

During her training year on base, it had become abundantly clear that Dipper was running away from a family that wasn’t willing to admit that she wasn’t the same aircraft she had been before her rebuild. As the Chief he had seen how that family had tried to use money to tether her, to trap her in a life that she no longer fit into. He knew that she was on the edge of being destitute and having balanced on that razor's edge in the past, he knew that in order to survive she must have jettisoned any hope of owning anything that might weigh her down. It was clear she needed a home, even if that home was only for a few months a year. But it was also clear that she didn't have any funds to decorate the hanger space she was assigned, so Blade took it upon himself to try to make her hanger more comfortable for her.

The one thing that Blade had quickly determined was that Dipper’s style didn’t match any of his other team members. She clearly preferred something more delicate than Dynamite’s ‘if it’s not nailed down it isn’t surviving me’ method of decorating. The flying plane also seemed to crave something more modern than Patch’s vintage preferences or Cabbie’s army surplus aesthetic. Finally, he was pretty certain that Dipper’s tastes didn’t line up with Windlifter’s tastes in interior design ( _even though no one was exactly sure Windlifter’s decorating tastes were, because his wife had swooped in and had taken over and decorated his hanger to the nines_ ).

Unfortunately for Blade, he had also determined that none of Piston Peak Air Attack Bases’ winter residence were particularly interested in helping him figure out how he was going to make Dipper feel welcome. Maru seemed to assume that making sure that Dipper’s hanger was swept out and assuring that her roof didn’t leak before she arrived should be enough to make her feel cared for. Cabbie, on the other tire, simply gave Blade a Deere in the headlights look whenever the helicopter asked for advice.

Which brings us back to Ikea, and two frustrated vehicles trying to figure out sort of coherent interior design they could manage with the $300 dollars _($100 from each of the base’s year-round residences_ ) he had to work with. After meandering through the twists and turns it became pretty slagging clear, that even a basic sleeping mat or floor rug was completely out of their budget. Even putting in some fancy lighting or most of the knickknacks. Blade was almost to the point of spending their entire fund on cinnamon buns and admitting defeat when something caught Maru’s eye.

“Blade.” Maru looked up at his close friend with a somewhat sheepish look. “I think I have figured out what we are going to do for Dipper’s hanger…but we are in the wrong store.”

At this point, Blade was too tired to give more than a sigh as he allowed Maru to guide the helicopter to his favorite place to shop. Two hours later, fifteen rolls of duct tape, and $300 dollars later, the two vehicles left Home Depot with all of the supplies they needed to complete Maru’s project. All they had to do was put in the elbow grease to get everything put together before Dipper flew in for the summer season.

* * *

When Lil’ Dipper came in for a landing at Piston Peak Air Attack Base, she knew that something was different. She had a hard time putting her tire on what it was…but then as she scanned the hangers on the far side of the tarmac, it hit her. One of the hangers was now blue. A bright cheerful blue that made her happy just by looking at it. But that wasn’t the only thing that was new about the hanger. Below each of the hanger’s windows, there was a planter box.

Curious Dipper made a beeline to the newly painted hanger and peeked over the rim of the planter boxes…the only thing they were filled with was dirt. The flying boat hated to admit just how disappointed the lack of flowers made her feel. But she didn’t have time to mope about that right now, she needed to check in with the Chief. She made a quick U-Turn…and found herself face to face with the Chief.

“I see you have seen the improvements to your hanger.” Chief Blade Ranger spoke with a tone that Dipper didn’t know how to interpreted, but he motioned her to follow him, so Dipper assumed that he wasn’t made at here. With a nudge of his nose he pushed open the door of the happy blue hanger to show a collection of brightly colored little plants in little plastic pots. “We weren’t sure which plants you would want to put in which planter, so we decided to wait until you arrived to plant them.”

Dipper looked at the plants, then she looked at the Chief, then back to the plants. She tried to speak, but neither her brain nor her mouth could form the words she wanted to say. Luckily Cabbie rolled up and saved her.

“So, what do you think of your new home?” The old plane asked with warmth in his voice.

“I love it!” Dipper replied, no longer holding back her tears.

Most of the rest of the day was spent doing the normal onboarding paperwork, but all the annoyance of paperwork meant nothing because for the first time that Dipper could remember, she felt like she had a place where she had roots. And that feeling of being rooted only grew deeper every single time she water her little window gardens, until she, like the flowers growing in her planter boxes bloomed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, I enjoyed the mental image of Blade trying to navigate the twists and turns of Ikea while avoiding getting his rotor and tail boom caught in things way more than I should have. Hopefully, you also got a giggle or two. But now it is time to figure out what our next story will be about. What are your prompts for H?


End file.
